


Holly at Hogwarts: Now and Forever

by Forest_of_Holly



Series: Holly at Hogwarts [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 20:04:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 144,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forest_of_Holly/pseuds/Forest_of_Holly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a near death experience Holly Wycliff learns that she is witch and begins a magical adventure at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with the next generation of Hogwarts students. This story begins only minutes after Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows ends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amanda Alice](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Amanda+Alice).



> After the Harry Potter series ended, I really felt the need to continue the story. Holly at Hogwarts is the result. It was conceived and drafted during long hours on the road driving from place to place and was the source of much conversation while we pondered the future of the Hogwarts world. I wrote the story for my daughter, Amanda, a dedicated Hogwarts fan. I intended it to be a surprise gift but she hovered over me one day while I was writing and saw the word "Hogwarts." After that, she would check on my progress frequently demanding that I "write more!" l hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I did writing it.

 

          Holly was dying.  She had always been a quiet, sickly child but lately it had gotten worse, much worse.  And now… Numerous trips to the doctors had brought no relief; they had taken her to every specialist they could find.  Holly would rally some with the visit; but her symptoms would change; the tests were all negative and in the end the doctors and specialists could find nothing wrong with her.  Most finally suggested she wasn’t really sick; it was all psychological—not that the psychologists could find anything wrong either.  But looking at Holly now, all pale—so weak, she could barely lift her hand; Dillon knew it wasn’t psychological.  Holly was dying.  And if something weren’t done fast, it would be too late.  
          There was a time, while he watched Holly gradually get sicker and sicker, that Dillon harbored a secret dread, a hope and a dread actually, (not that it mattered now,) that one day a letter might arrive at their house, a letter that would explain away all of Holly’s problems.  That would have been difficult had it happened, but Holly’s eleventh birthday rolled around and no letter arrived.  Instead, Holly got sicker and sicker.  Doctors now ignored their frantic pleas for help—  
          “There was nothing wrong with Holly,” they said.  If only they would make house calls.  Then they could see her now.  Holly was so frail and thin; she didn’t eat, didn’t speak; she just lay there listlessly.  She was so pale her long blond hair was her brightest color.  And her eyes, her beautiful green eyes; they could add lots of color—but they were closed now.  Dillon doubted they would ever open again.  
          In the back of Dillon’s mind lurked the thought of a hospital.  A special hospital he knew had to exist where they took strange cases…  Holly’s case was strange; it had stumped every doctor and specialist they had seen.  Maybe, just maybe, the people at _that_ hospital could help…  It was a long shot, true, more so since Holly hadn’t gotten that letter, but Dillon had run out of conventional ideas and was desperate.  Unfortunately, his link to that hospital was old.  So old it may not even exist any more.  Dillon sat in the dark next to Holly, listening to her shallow breathing, pondering the situation.  Finally, he rose from his seat and left Holly’s room.   
          “I am going out for a while,” he announced briefly to his wife Laurel.  Laurel nodded.  Dillon had sat with Holly nearly all evening.  It was her turn now.  Sometimes, with Holly as sick as she was, you just had to get away from it all.

 ********************

 

          “Daddy?” asked Lily as they were leaving the station.  “What’s your name doing on the walls?”  
          “My name?” questioned Harry.  He turned to look at where Lily pointed and sure enough, there were signs with his name on them posted on columns all over the Muggle side of the station.  They were hard to miss, actually.  Bright fluorescent green paper: 

 

 

HARRY POTTER

they said in dark bold letters.

PLEASE CALL DUDLEY.

a number followed.

And below that was a second message.

IF YOU KNEW HARRY POTTER, PLEASE CALL.

And the number was repeated.

          “Who’s Dudley?” asked Ginny as she studied the signs.  
          “Maybe someone I know,” answered Harry quietly.  He walked up, carefully removed the sign, folded and tucked it away in his pocket.  Then he began to remove the rest of the signs posted all over Kings Cross station.  Ginny and Lily helped out.  Without another word between them they pulled off the rest of the signs and left the station.  Ginny had lots of questions but was silent.  She knew Harry would explain more when he was ready.

********************

 

          Dillon sat alone in his office waiting.  The office had long since closed and the sun was setting but still he waited.  He had been reluctant to give out his home telephone number—not for something like this.  He didn’t want to have to explain his crazy idea to Laurel or have her accidentally answer the phone should someone call, if someone called.  And there had been calls the first few days.  Pranks though: curious about Harry and why Dudley wanted to talk to him. But they didn’t seem to know Harry; they weren’t the kind of people Dillon wanted to talk to; he could tell.  The calls had stopped ages ago.  But still Dillon waited; still Dillon hoped that maybe…  Anyway, sitting here was better than sitting with Holly, watching her waste away into nothingness.  
  
          The phone rang.  
  
          “Dudley?  It’s Harry.”   
  
          Dillon froze in his seat.  That voice—it could be right.  But he had to be sure.  “Lots of people have called claiming to be Harry,” Dillon responded carefully.  Waiting.  Hopeful.  There was silence on the other end of the receiver.   
          Then that familiar voice spoke again.  “There was this night with some Dementors…”  
          Dillon thought.  Even the name gave him chills.  But it wasn’t enough.  Anyone from Harry’s world could have known about that.  It caused such a ruckus Harry using magic that time.  “Anyone _over there_ could know that,” spoke Dillon.  “What else?”   
          The receiver was silent so long that Dillon feared the voice on the other end had hung up.  And then—  “There was a teacup with some tea on the floor outside my bedroom door that last day…”  
          Harry!  It was definitely Harry!  Dillon sagged with relief.  “We’ve got to meet!” he spoke urgently.  
          “When?”   
          “Tonight!”  
          “Where?”   
           Where? Dillon hadn’t thought that far ahead.  Where could they meet?  Someplace neutral but not too far from home.  The park!  “There is a park,” he began, and proceeded to give Harry the directions.  “Can you be there?”  Dillon asked when he finished.    
          “I can be there,” the quiet voice on the other end assured him.  “How soon?”   
          Dillon thought quickly.  It would take him a while to get there from here.  But who knew where Harry was.  “Uh, 20-30 minutes?  Is that O.K?”  
          “That would be fine.  I’ll be there.”  And the voice on the other end rang off.   
          Dillon hung up his own phone, quickly grabbed his coat and left the office.  Maybe, just maybe, he had found one last chance for Holly.

********************

 

          The park was empty; it was late and dark now.  Dillon could see the playground swings move gently in the breeze when he got out of his car.  He could hear them creak lightly as he drew closer.  But he didn’t see anyone, anyone at all.   
          Then, suddenly, there was a movement and Harry was there.  He had been standing quietly in the shadows, camouflaged by their darkness.  Harry stepped into the light.  “Dudley?” he asked.  
        “Yeah,” confirmed Dillon.  He hurried forward, hand extended and then stopped.  They hadn’t ever been the best of friends even on a good day; how do you greet someone like that after nearly 20 years?  Dillon withdrew his hand.  “You, ah, look good,” he said instead.  “You haven’t changed a bit.”  And it was true.  Long and thin, hair slightly untidy, the same style glasses.  Harry still had that scar on his forehead.  He was a little older, sure, but definitely Harry.  Dillon had been relieved that Harry wasn’t wearing something, well, weird, like his friends had been wearing when they last saw each other. Harry looked actually normal in that coat and tie but his hands were in his pockets—one of those pockets no doubt hiding what Dudley knew must be there.  
          “You’ve changed,” said Harry bluntly.   
          “I, uh—” Dillon scrambled to remember what he must have looked like back then.  It was so long ago.  “You see, after we moved, I met this girl, and, uh, I lost 40 pounds!  And I got married and I have a family—two kids.  Little Vernon looks just like his granddad when he was young.  And Holly—well, when she smiles, it’s like the sun come out from behind the clouds.”  Dillon smiled at the memory.  
          “I am glad to hear that,” replied Harry.  “But you didn’t ask me to call just to catch up on old times…”  
          “Uh, no.”  Dillon struggled to find the right words.  Harry wasn’t making it any easier.  He just stood there calmly, waiting.  “It’s Holly!”  Dillon finally blurted.  “She’s dying!”  The words came out in a rush now.  “We’ve been to doctors and specialists everywhere!  But it doesn’t help.  They can’t find anything wrong with her; they think we’re crazy.  But she keeps on getting worse and worse.  She’s gonna DIE!”   
          “I’m sorry to hear that,” replied Harry quietly.  “But Holly is a Muggle.  We don’t deal with the problems of the Muggle world.  You know that.”  
          “Yes, I know,” responded Dillon.  “But Holly’s case is different.  Nobody knows what’s wrong with her.  You must have a hospital, one that takes, uh, strange cases.  I thought maybe they might know, maybe they could figure out…”  Dillon’s voice trailed off.  
          “How old is Holly?” asked Harry abruptly.   
          “She’s eleven,” answered Dillon. “Just turned eleven in July.”  
          “And she didn’t get a letter?” asked Harry.  Dillon shook his head.  “Then Holly is a Muggle.  I’m sorry, Dudley, but she’s a Muggle and we don’t deal with Muggle problems.”  
          “Look-it Harry,” said Dillon desperately.  “She’s dying.  DYING!  What if it were your little girl dying and you were watching helplessly and you knew there was some hospital or doctors out there that maybe could help.  Wouldn’t you do whatever you could to get her there?”  
          Harry studied Dudley.  He was still big, portly, but more muscle than fat with thinning blond hair.  There were circles under his eyes betraying long days of little sleep.  It was a testament to Dudley’s determination and/or desperation to seek out Harry especially given how Dudley’s parents felt about Harry.  Holly must be really sick.  Harry thought of his own sweet Lily.  If their situations were reversed, and it was his Lily who lay dying, and he knew there was a hospital somewhere… he would indeed be trying everything possible to get her there.   
          Harry sighed.  “All right,” he said.  “I’ll take her to the hospital.  I can’t make any promises, though.  If they say it’s a Muggle thing and won’t take her, that’s it.”  
          Dudley’s tense body almost collapsed with relief as he mumbled a grateful “Thank you.  Come with me,” he said as he practically ran to his car.  “We don’t live far from here,” he continued.  “I’ll take you there.”  Harry followed Dudley to the car and got in besides him.  It had been so long, Harry reflected, since he last rode in a car…  
          The silence in the car bothered Dillon.  “So,” he began, grasping for a topic of conversation.  “That Volde- Volde-something-er-other—is he gone now?”   
          “Yeah,” answered Harry briefly.  “He’s gone now.”  Even now, the memories were too much and it was not a topic about which he liked to talk.  
          “Oh,” said Dillon.  “I wondered, but nobody ever said.”  
          “When it was all over,” Harry began, choosing his words carefully.  “I knew you were safe.  I also knew how your parents felt about me…  I didn’t look you up because I didn’t want to, to intrude on your privacy.  Didn’t want to impose on your hospitality again…”  
          Dillon nodded.  He remembered that scary night when they had been pushed into a car and hustled to a new location, a new life.  They had been given new identities.  Though they remembered who they had been, to the rest of the world, Petunia had become Violet, Vernon had become Vincent and he, Dudley, was now Dillon.  Vernon and Petunia had worried for years that Harry, or someone of his kind, would walk in on them and their new lives.  It was only much later that they had begun to relax daring to believe they would never be bothered again.   
          “You probably did the right thing,” he reflected.  “Look.  There’s my house now.”  Dudley pulled the car into a driveway and came to a stop.  
          The lights in the house were warm and inviting after the somber gray colors of night.  A stocky young boy, about 13 or 14, sat in the corner playing a computer game.  He had blond hair and green eyes.  He looked up at Dudley when he walked in.  “Hi dad.  You’re late,” he announced.  “What kept you so—” he broke off when he saw Harry standing behind him.  “Who’s that?” he asked.  
          A tired looking woman with limp brown medium length hair tied back with a faded blue kerchief and worn clothes came out of a back room.  She kissed Dudley lightly on the cheek by way of greeting and glanced curiously at Harry.  “I saved some dinner for you on the stove,” she began.  “If I had known you were bringing company…”  She trailed off, again looking at Harry.   
          Dudley ignored her implied question and instead asked, “How is she?”  The woman shook her head sadly.  There were dark circles under her green eyes, and a lot of despair in her face.  Dudley cleared his throat.  “Everyone, I’d like you to meet my,” even now he had problems saying the words, “my cousin—Harry, Harry Potter.”   
          “Cousin!” exclaimed the boy.  “I didn’t know you had a cousin.”  
          “Nor did I.” stated the woman looking at Harry with new interest.  
          “Well, I do!” said Dudley defiantly glaring at his family, daring anyone to question his word further.  “Harry, this is my son Vernon…”  
          “How do you do,” replied Harry, bowing slightly acknowledging the introduction.  Vernon stared curiously back.  
          “And this is my wife, Laurel,” continued Dudley introducing his wife.   
          “Pleased to meet you,“ said Harry taking her hand in his and touching his lips briefly to her fingertips.  It never hurt to go formal in awkward situations.  Laurel removed her hand from his and stared at Harry.  
          “Harry’s come here to help with Holly,” continued Dudley.  
          “Oh?” said Laurel.  Was there just a hint of hope in her green eyes?  “Are you a Doctor?” she inquired.  
          “No, ma’am,” replied Harry quietly.  He did not volunteer any further information.  It was plain that Dudley had not told his family of his crazy idea for help.  They knew nothing about Harry or his wizarding world.  Harry did not know what he could, should or should not say in front of these people.  He left all the explanations to Dudley.   
          When it became apparent that Harry would say nothing further, Laurel turned to Dudley for additional explanations.  “Harry knows of this hospital where the uh, doctors are really good.  They specialize in unusual cases and maybe they can help Holly,” explained Dudley.  
          “Hospital?  What hospital?  Where is it?”  Laurel asked.  
          “In London,” replied Harry.  
          “What’s its name?”  
          “St. Mungo’s Hospital,” replied Harry.  The full name was St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.  But Harry didn’t think giving out the full name would be such a good idea right now.  
          “Never heard of it.”  
          “Of course not,” explained Harry smoothly.  “It is very private; most of its business comes through word of mouth and references.”  _"That was true enough,"_ thought Harry.  Everyone in the wizarding world knew about St. Mungo’s so why bother to advertise.   
          Laurel fixed her green eyes on Harry’s.  “So you propose to take my Holly to this unknown, obscure hospital where the doctors are going to make her all better.  Right?”  
          “Not exactly, ma’am,” replied Harry, his voice still quiet and carefully neutral.  
          “What, exactly,” she demanded.   
          “I will be taking Holly to St. Mungo’s where the doctors there can examine her.”  
          “And they will make her better, right?”  
          “I don’t know that,” replied Harry.  “As I said before, I am not a doctor.  I cannot make promises for the doctors at St. Mungo’s when they have not yet had a chance to examine her.”  
          Laurel turned towards Dudley.  There was fire in her green eyes.  She may be tired but there was still a lot of energy left.  There was a fight brewing between them and Harry wanted no part of it.  
          “Excuse me,” he said to Dudley.  “Where is Miss Holly’s room?”  
          “What?  Oh, that way,” indicated Dudley with a turn of his head.  Harry left quickly and went into Holly’s room.  Behind him he could hear Laurel’s voice…  
          “Are you out of your mind?” she said to Dudley.  “Do you have any idea how fragile, how frail Holly is?  A move like that, all the way to London, could kill her!!!  And for what??? Another empty promise to help MAYBE???”    
          Harry shut out Dudley’s response and focused on the figure in the room.  The room was dim but he could see a shape lying on the bed.  She was so thin she was almost skeletal.  For a moment, Harry thought she was already dead.  But then he saw a faint hint of movement in her bony chest that indicated a breath.  Privately, now that he saw her, Harry agreed with Laurel; it could be dangerous, even deadly to move Holly.  But Harry had promised to take her to St. Mungo’s.  If he moved quickly, he might even be able to get her there before she died…  Harry looked around the room.  He saw a quilt folded neatly on a nearby chair.   
          The voices continued in the background.  Laurel’s voice was rising ever louder.  “You want to entrust our Holly to a distant cousin I’ve never heard of, you’ve never even talked to for over 15 years?!!!”  
          “More like 20,” corrected Harry privately as he grabbed the quilt and gently wrapped it around Holly.  Then he lifted her up.  She was so light!  “Oh, Holly,” he thought desperately while brushing a strand of long blond hair away from her pale face, “I hope I am doing the right thing.”  Harry carried Holly into the other room.   
          The fighting stopped the moment the two saw her.  “What are you doing?” asked Laurel.   
          “I am taking her to St. Mungo’s,” said Harry.  
          “She’ll die!”   
          “She’s already dying,” agreed Harry.  “Visiting St. Mungo’s can’t make her any worse.”  
          “Do you think it’ll help?”  
          “I don’t know.  Probably not.  No,” said Harry dully.  
          “So why are you doing it?”  
          “Because I said I’d try,” said Harry resolutely.  “And,” he continued thoughtfully looking down at her tiny form, “because she’s family.”  
          “Then let me get my coat,” said Laurel.  “I’m going with you.”  
          “NO!” both Harry and Dudley practically shouted together.  
          “I mean,” explained Harry more calmly, “I don’t think that would be a good idea.  I can travel much faster alone.  And I think we’re agreed that speed is of the essence.”  
          “That’s right,” confirmed Dudley desperately.  “Harry can get there much faster on his own,” What would Laurel think if she actually saw the hospital in question.   Then he remembered that Harry’s transportation, what ever it was, was probably still at the park…  Laurel hesitated.   
          Harry used that moment to his advantage.  “I’ll call as soon as I learn something, Dudley,” he said.  “Could you get the door, please?”  
          “Dudley???  Who’s Dudley?!!!”  Laurel shrieked.  Dudley ran to get the door.  Harry quickly walked out of the house with Holly leaving Dudley behind to answer more questions.

********************

 

          Laurel’s last words echoed through Harry Potter’s head as he walked down the driveway.  
          “Fool!” he berated himself.  “Of course they would have changed his name when they gave him a new identity.”  He should have thought to find out his current name before addressing Dudley in public like that.  He must be more careful to not make such mistakes on their next meeting.  It would be, Harry suspected, looking down at Holly’s still form, a most difficult meeting indeed without adding other social blunders to the occasion.   
          Harry looked around.  It was late out and no one else was on the street.  “Holly,” he whispered softly, “I hope you survive this.”  And Harry Apparated them to the streets outside St. Mungo’s.

********************

 

          Holly gave a brief shudder and a gasp upon arrival outside the Purge and Dowse Ltd. Building.  Harry looked down anxiously.  Had she just died?  But no, she was still alive.  Harry gave a sigh of relief.  It was probably only his imagination but she did seem to be breathing a bit easier.  The street was empty.  He walked up to the window display to face a female dummy on the other side.   
          A cough broke the silence.  Harry looked around.  Had they been seen?  Were they being watched?  He saw a dark figure, the source of the cough, just turning the corner.  The person ignored Harry and walked purposefully down the street coughing.  Holly stirred and coughed.  It was a small, wispy cough.  Harry looked down in amazement.  A moment ago, he hadn’t been sure she had enough strength to breathe let alone cough.  This was encouraging.  The coughing man turned the next corner and vanished from sight.   
          Harry looked up at the female dummy and spoke.  “I’ve a patient…”   The dummy face nodded and beckoned with her jointed finger.  Harry, still carrying Holly, stepped through the glass and vanished.  
          They arrived in a quiet reception room.  Only one person stood before the receptionist, talking.  He was covered with a purple rash all over his body.  He kept on scratching himself.  “…I was just trying to take a bath before bed,” he was saying,  “I didn’t know my son had put some Weasley Itching Powder all over my soap!  Now I can’t get this dang rash off!”  He scratched himself some more.    
          “For the fastest results, you need to visit George Weasley,” the bored brunette witch receptionist answered.  “He has remedies for all the products he sells.”   
          “I know that!” wailed the man while continuing to scratch.  “But he’s out of town on vacation and can’t be reached until Monday.!!!   Can’t you do anything about this itch TODAY?!!!”  
          “Third floor,” directed the receptionist.  “Good luck.”  The man walked off scratching continuously.  
          Holly stirred.  Harry looked down at her.  She was scratching herself!  Not much, but she was definitely making scratching motions.  “How strange,” he thought.  Maybe Dudley’s crazy idea wasn’t so crazy after all.  
          “Next!”   
          Harry stepped forward.  He looked down at Holly.  “I, uh don’t know exactly what is wrong with her…” he began.   
          The witch receptionist looked up at him.  She surveyed Holly briefly.  “You need Diagnostics.  Down the hall and the first door to the right,” she directed.  “A Healer will be with you shortly.”   
          Harry obediently walked down the hall and into the room on the right.  There was a chair and a small pallet.  He sat on the chair but continued to hold Holly.  Harry was almost afraid that to set her down would break whatever slender hold she held onto life.  Shelves full of colorful odd shaped bottles and flasks lined the room.   
          A portrait of a matronly lady with dark brown hair all braided and twisted into a bun on top of her head, dressed in Middle Ages style clothing standing amidst a room with a table full of vials and potion bottles hung on the back wall.  She looked down curiously at them.  “What’s wrong with her?” the lady in the portrait asked.  
          “I don’t know,” replied Harry.   
          “Well, don’t you worry,” the lady reassured him, “Healer Winonan is the best there is.”  
          “Thanks.”   Harry waited some more.   
          A few minutes later a short dark skinned man with short white curly hair, bushy white eyebrows and a white beard entered the room.  He wore a lime green robe with an embroidered emblem of a crossed wand and bone.  Underneath was a yellow polka dot shirt, pink pants and blue flowered suspenders.  He looked comical but was definitely all business.  “I am Healer Winonan,” he announced.  “Now what is the problem?”  
          “He says he doesn’t know,” blurted the lady in the portrait before Harry could answer, “but I think she’s starving.”  
          “Yes, yes, you are probably right,” agreed the Healer.  “But lets have a look see for sure.”  He motioned Harry to put Holly on the pallet.   
          Harry laid Holly gently on the pallet.  “I don’t know—” Harry began…   
          “Hush!” interrupted the Healer.  “I’m busy.”  So Harry fell silent.  Winonan proceeded to examine Holly.  He listened to her breathe.  He lifted her arm and watched it fall limply down to her side.  He pulled out a small round clear glass ball.  He twisted it open and held it over Holly’s nose.  It appeared to catch some of Holly’s breath.  The physician closed the ball over her breath and studied it.  The breath turned immediately pink and yellow and swirled around in the ball.   
          Then Healer Winonan straightened up having made his decision.  “You’re absolutely right, Fiona, as usual,” he announced, talking to the portrait.  “This child is absolutely starving!  She needs lots of food and some fresh air at a nice quiet secluded beach.”   
          Fiona sat back with a smug look on her face.  “Told you,” she said to Harry.   
          Harry stared at the Healer in shock.  “But, look at her!” he sputtered.  
          “I am!” the Healer replied.  “Have you?  The poor thing is nothing but skin and bones!”  He fixed his eyes on Harry accusingly.  “Are you the father?”  
          “Uh, no,” Harry muttered.  “Her cousin.”  
          “Well where are her parents?!”  Winonan demanded.   
          “They’re Muggles.”  
          “Oh,” the Healer softened his tone.  “I guess that explains it.”  
          “No it doesn’t,” stated Fiona righteously.  “I think it’s criminal, even for Muggles, to starve their children.  Don’t you?”  
          “But they weren’t starving her,” said Harry desperately.  Of that he was sure.  “She wasn’t eating!”  
          “You sure?”   
          “Yes.”  
          “Hmmm.  So who was dying?”  
          Harry looked at the Healer in disbelief.  “What do you mean?  Look at her!”  
          “Not her, silly, the other person!!!”  That came from Fiona leaning forward again; she had definitely taken an active interest in the case.   
          Harry looked at her blankly.  “What other person?  There was no other person!”   
          Fiona sat back.  “Really?” she sounded impressed.  “And she is so young.  What about the neighborhood?  Was there somebody dying in the neighborhood?”   
          Harry stared at the portrait. “Well, I don’t know!” he answered.   
          “You should,” she announced.  “You should always keep tabs on such things with someone like her especially if she’s got Muggles for parents!”  She looked at Harry accusingly as if Holly’s condition was all his fault!   
          Harry could feel his blood beginning to boil.  This was not his fault.  He took a deep breath and lowered his voice.  “I don’t understand.  What is wrong with Holly?”  
          “Oh, is Holly her name?” interjected Fiona.  “What a pretty name.”   
          Harry ignored the portrait and stared directly at the Healer waiting for an answer.  
          “I told you,” replied Winonan.  “Nothing is wrong with Holly.”  
          “So why is she like,” Harry gestured at Holly’s still body, “like this?”   
          Rather than replying, Healer Winonan drew out his wand.  He pointed it at Harry and muttered some words.  Before Harry had time to respond, he felt a sharp zapping sting in his left arm.  
          “OW!”  Harry shouted rubbing his now very painful arm.  “What did you do that for?”   
          Winonan did not answer.  Instead, he nodded at Holly.  Harry, now more interested in his hurting arm, glanced at her briefly turning as he rubbed his arm.  Then he stared again—the pain in his arm forgotten.  Holly was rubbing her arm—the left arm at the exact same place!  He looked at the physician with wonderment.  “Did she just feel that?”  
          Healer Winonan nodded.   
          “She’s an Empath!” announced Fiona smugly!  
          “A what?”   
          “An Empath,” explained Winonan.  “She feels what other people are feeling.  When they hurt, she hurts.  When someone is sick, she’s sick.  And when someone feels so bad that he or she doesn’t feel like eating…”  
          “Neither does Holly,” finished Harry in a whisper.  His face paled realizing how near death Holly had been, literally.  That nearness had been killing her.  Taking her away from the house had, unknowingly, been the best thing he could have done for her.  
          Healer Winonan pulled a bright green bottle labeled FAST FOOD off the shelf.  He uncorked the bottle and poured some muddy dark brown goo into a large spoon. Gently lifting Holly’s head and shoulders he held the potion to her lips. “Drink this, my dear,” he coaxed softly.  “It’ll help make you better.”  Holly obediently swallowed.  She immediately started gagging and coughing.   
          “Nasty stuff,” commented Winonan sympathetically while watching Holly’s face contort, “but it’ll tide you over until we can get some proper food into you.  Would you get that bottle on the end?” he asked Harry while still holding Holly up.  Winonan indicated with his head a dark purple bottle on a different shelf.  Harry nodded; he removed a bottle labeled PAINLESS and held it out to Healer Winonan.  “Uncork it if you would, please,” he asked. Harry obliged uncorking the bottle.  Healer Winonan held out the spoon he had just used with the previous potion, the spoon looked sparkling clean.  Harry poured the liquid from the bottle into the spoon.  It was milky lavender in color.  The potion sparkled and fizzed in the light. “Come along, dear,” he encouraged soothingly holding the spoon to Holly’s lips, “this one won’t taste nearly as bad.” Holly again swallowed but this time without any of the coughing or gagging. The healer laid Holly down.  “Now rest,” he ordered gently.  “When you wake we’ll have a fine dinner waiting for you to eat.”  
          “What’s that do?” inquired Harry studying the bottle still in his hands.   
          “It numbs her so she won’t feel the pain or emotions of other people,” explained Winonan straightening.  “Mind you, this is only a temporary solution,” he added taking the bottle from Harry.  He re-corked it and placed the bottle back on the shelf.  “If she keeps using it she’ll build a resistance to the potion and it won’t work at all.  She needs to learn how to block outside emotions and pain.  Then she won’t need the potion.”  Winonan examined her critically.  “She looks school age.  How old is she?”  
          _“Uh,"_  thought Harry.  “She just turned eleven.”   
          “Eleven!”  Winonan raised his bushy eyebrows.  “Well, then, how come she isn’t at Hogwarts?”  He stared accusingly at Harry.  
          “She never got a letter.”  Harry replied defensively.  “I thought she was a Muggle,” he added faintly.  
          “She should definitely be at Hogwarts,” asserted Winonan.  “Why didn’t she get a letter?  There is going to be an investigation into this for sure!!!  Muggles can’t be expected to teach Empaths how to block emotions.”  
          “I’ll be looking into it immediately,” Harry replied looking at the sleeping Holly.  Why hadn’t she gotten a letter?  It could have cost Holly her life.  He needed to find the answers quickly so he could explain it to Holly’s parents. 

********************

 

          Dillon sat alone in his office, waiting.  Laurel hadn’t exactly thrown him out of the house after Harry’s visit, but when she learned the only number Harry had to contact them was at the office, Laurel had insisted Dillon remain at the office until he heard from Harry.  And so he waited for the phone call he dreaded to receive.  
          At 3 a.m. the telephone rang.  Dillon looked at the phone fearfully.  It was too soon—it could only be bad news.  He managed to pick it up after the third ring.  
          “Hello?” said Dillon fearfully.  
          “Dudley?  It’s me, Harry.  Call Laurel,” the voice commanded.  _(Oh God!  This was it!!!)_   “Holly is going to be fine!  The doctors want to keep her here a day for observation.  I’ll bring her back the next day and explain everything.”  The phone disconnected before Dillon could say another word.  
          Dillon dropped the phone on the desk and cradled his head in his arms.  Tears streamed down his face.  He felt as if an enormous weight had lifted from his shoulders.  After a while, Dillon wiped off the tears, got up, grabbed his coat and left the office to go home.

 


	2. Chapter 2

            Holly woke up.  She wasn’t sure why she woke.  But she did.  She’d been having strange dreams filled with sadness and tears; then it got quiet.  No television blaring away, no dishes clinking in the kitchen, no water in the pipes, no Vernon loudly hunting for toys, no noise at all.  It was too quiet.  And so, Holly woke up.  
          She opened her eyes.  Where was she?  She was in a bed but this wasn’t her room.  It was too bare.  The walls were white.  There were no posters, no stuffed animals.  It had to be a hospital of some sort.  There was a sign posted on the wall outside, across from her room.  She could see the sign through the door window.  It said:  QUIET: MUGGLE WARD.  Wards were in Hospitals.  She knew that.  But what was a Muggle?  And where were her parents?  Usually mum or dad went with her on Doctor visits.  
          “Hello,” said a quiet voice next to her.  Holly turned and looked at the source of the voice.  There was a man sitting in a chair next to her.  He was kind of thin.  He wore glasses and had untidy black hair with sprinkles of gray in it.  There was a small zig-zaggy scar on his forehead.  He looked nice enough but she didn’t know him.  “My name is Harry, Harry Potter,” the man said.  “I’m your cousin—on your father’s side.”  
          “I didn’t know dad had any cousins.”   
          The man smiled briefly.  “Well, we haven’t talked in a long while.  But your grandmother, on your father’s side, and my mum were sisters,” he said.  “You were really, really sick,” he continued,  “and your dad asked me to take you to the hospital to get better.”  
          “Was I?  I don’t remember…”  Holly’s voice trailed off.  What did she remember…?  Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening.   
          A stout brunette woman wearing a nurse’s cap came bustling in.  “Ah,” she said cheerfully.  “We’re finally awake.  You almost slept the morning away.”  She pulled out a dark purple bottle and a spoon.  “Time for your medicine,” she chirped.  She poured some milky lavender liquid into a large spoon.  It sparkled and fizzed in the light.  “Drink up, dear,” she said and held the spoon to Holly’s lips.  Holly obediently swallowed.  “Good girl.  Now, you just relax a bit and I’ll be back with your meal.”  She swished out of the room leaving Holly alone again with Mr. Potter.   
          “What did it taste like?” asked Mr. Potter curiously.   
          Holly thought a moment.  “It tasted a bit like lemon custard,” she answered.  She had never heard of medicine tasting good.  “What’s it do?”  
          “You really want to know?”  Holly nodded.  Mr. Potter rummaged around in his coat pocket.  He brought out a very large, very sharp looking pin.  Holly’s green eyes grew large.  Mr. Potter held up the pin.  “Watch this,” he announced.  Holly watched.  Mr. Potter quickly thrust the pin over to his other hand and stabbed himself in the thumb!  Holly immediately flinched.  She could see a drop of blood welling up from the pinprick.  “Did that hurt?” he asked.  
          Holly thought.  No, it hadn’t!  A wide smile of incredulity spread over her face.  “How did you know?” she asked beaming.   
          “I didn’t,” answered Mr. Potter rubbing the blood off his thumb.  “The doctor knew.”  Mr. Potter leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially to Holly.  “He’s a very good doctor.”  
          “He must be,” agreed Holly happily.  “No one else figured it out.”  
          “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”  Mr. Potter asked gently.   
          Holly was silent, thinking.  Mr. Potter waited patiently.  Finally Holly spoke.  “When my best friend Jessica fell and scraped her knee,” began Holly hesitantly, “it hurt me so bad that I started to cry too.  She thought I was making fun of her and didn’t believe me when I told her why I was crying.  The next day she wasn’t my best friend any more.”  Mr. Potter nodded his head sympathetically.   
          “Once,” Holly continued, “when I was at school, I had the most fierce headache.  It was in the middle of an exam.  I thought I would die!  They sent me to the office.  Of course I got all better then but nobody believed I had been hurting in the first place.  I got into terrible trouble for fibbing!  The exam, you know.  And when I got back to the classroom, the headache came back!  It was just awful.”  Holly sniffed.  Harry nodded, listening.  “I told my mum what happened at school; she believed me and took me to the Doctors.  By then, I had all sorts of other horrible feelings and I told the Doctors and they listened and gave me all sorts of tests, but they couldn’t find anything.”  
          “Uh-huh,” encouraged Mr. Potter.  “Why didn’t you tell your parents?” he inquired gently.    
          Holly thought some more.  “Mum and dad,” she began, “they’re pretty straight.  They don’t much like when people are, uh, different.  And they don’t go for mysterious stuff, either.  When Vernon broke his arm,” Holly continued, “I sobbed with him all the way to the hospital.  Mum and dad thought it was so sweet that I loved my brother so much that I was crying when he got hurt…  Dad always says there’s a reason for everything.  “You just have to find it,” he says.  And I could never find a proper reason.  It was easier to keep quiet, stay away from others and keep to myself,” she concluded miserably.   
          “I see,” said Mr. Potter kindly.  “Well, I think we have a reason now.  You were very, very, sick, young lady.  You almost died.”  
          “Did I?”  Holly lifted her hand and looked at it.  It was terribly bony; pale blue veins stood out vividly.   
          “Tell me about this last time, Holly,” Mr. Potter queried gently.  “What is the last thing you remember?”   
          Holly thought, still studying her hand.  “Right after school got out and the summer holidays began, I got to feeling terribly sad,” Holly said.  “I wanted to cry all the time.  And then, one day, we had just gotten back from a picnic at the beach for my birthday, I was ever so sad and I got weak and tired and didn’t want to do anything, anything at all.”   
          At that moment the nurse returned with a tray loaded with food.  “All right, my dear,” she announced cheerfully. “Are we hungry?”   
          Holly thought.  “Yes, Yes I am,” she replied eagerly.  
          “Well,” continued the nurse with a wide smile, “we have plenty of food for you to choose from and enough for you, too, Mr. Potter, to join in.  But first,” she said looking directly at Holly, “you have to take your pills.  It’s special body-building pills.”  She handed Holly two large pills.  They were dark green with yellow specks throughout.  “Chew these,” she commanded.   
          Harry leaned over to Holly.  “Kind of like super vitamins,” he whispered in her ear.  Holly giggled.  They were much more than that but Holly didn’t need to know.  “I wonder what they’ll taste like,” he added.  
          Holly chewed.  “Strawberries!” she announced with pleasure.  When she finished her pills the two of them began to eat.  There were ever so many foods to choose between.  Hot biscuits and jam, scones, meat pie, kippers, roast chicken, shepherd’s pie, apple pie, pumpkin pasties, custard, chicken soup, mutton stew, milk, juice, pudding…  However did the nurse fit it all on the tray?  Holly did most of the eating.  She really was very hungry.   
          Mr. Potter joined in too but spoke more than he ate.  He also carried on a lively conversation by himself discussing the merits of a shepherd’s pie to a basic meat pie and whether or not custard tasted better than pudding.  When Holly had eaten her fill, she yawned.  “Are you sleepy?” asked Mr. Potter.   
          “A little.”   
          “Then you should rest.  Rest is the best thing to do after you have been sick.”  Holly did not argue.  Rest sounded like a good idea.  “I have some errands to run,” said Mr. Potter.  “So I will leave you for now and let you sleep.  But here is a gift for you when you wake.”  He pulled out a small slim volume bound by a single pink bow.  “It can get kind of boring waiting in a hospital,” he said handing the book to Holly.  “It’s a book of fairy tales for you to read.  Do you like fairy tales?”   
          Holly smiled, “Oh yes.  I do.”  She took the volume and read the title.  It said:  _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_   “Thank you very much,” she said and tucked the book under her covers for later use.  Then she closed her eyes and was soon fast asleep.   
          Harry Potter watched her sleeping form for a few minutes listening to her steady, even breathing. “The beginning of summer holidays—June,” he mused.  “A trip to the beach, birthday in July…  That gives me a place to start.”  He picked up the food tray and took it with him as he left Holly’s room.  He had a lot to get done and not much time.

 ********************

          Mr. Potter wasn’t there when Holly woke but there was a huge meal on a tray waiting for her to eat.  There were another two body-building pills to take also.  
          “They’re a mild muscle grower and flesh replacement pill,” Healer Winonan had told Harry.  “They’ll make her strong enough to travel and take off a couple of weeks on her recovery time yet her growth won’t be so rapid as to affect normal body development.”  The body building pills tasted like peaches this time.   
          _“I must remember to tell Mr. Potter about them,”_ thought Holly as she happily ate much of the food placed before her.  When finished, her food tray was whisked away by another nurse and Holly read a couple of pages of her new book before she fell fast asleep.  
          Mr. Potter joined Holly for supper when she awoke that evening.  Holly was amazed at how hungry she always was.  “That’s because you haven’t eaten in such a long while,” explained Mr. Potter while she ate.  (The body building pills were peanut flavored this time.)  “Your body is trying to make up for lost time.”  And indeed, when Holly looked at her hands, they didn’t look nearly so skinny and bony as before, or was she just getting used to their look?   
          After dinner, Mr. Potter pulled out a couple of packages for Holly.  It was a new set of clothes.  A pretty blue dress, shoes, socks, everything!  “I hope they fit,” he exclaimed as he showed them to her.  “You’re going home tomorrow.  And we can’t have you traveling in your nightgown, now, can we?”  
          “No,” agreed Holly.  “That wouldn’t do.”  But then she was sleepy again.  So Mr. Potter placed the new clothes on a nearby counter and tucked her in.  Later, during the middle of the night, Holly woke again.  There was a tray of hot chocolate, milk, bread, jam and crackers waiting for her (and another set of body-building pills—peppermint flavored.)  Holly polished off all the food and went promptly back to sleep.  
          After a huge breakfast in the morning, (bacon flavored body-building pills this time and more purple sparkly stuff) the nurse brushed out Holly’s long blonde hair; she gathered the top part together pulling it back and used Holly’s new blue butterfly shaped barrette to keep it in place.  Afterwards, she helped Holly get into her new clothes.  They fit perfectly but Holly was amazed at how dizzy she felt when she tried to stand up.   
          “Don’t you worry yourself none,” the nurse assured Holly.  “That dizziness will soon pass and you’ll feel right as rain!”  She was right, but Holly felt ever so shaky when she took her first steps.  “That’ll pass too,” assured the nurse.  “Once your legs remember how to do it.  Mind you, though, you mustn’t overdo it; the moment you start to feel tired you need to take a rest, understand?”  
          “Yes, ma’am,” promised Holly, solemnly.  
          Mr. Potter returned just as Holly was finishing her morning snack (carrot flavored pills—yeech!)  “Are we ready to leave?” he asked cheerfully.  
          “Yes sir,” responded Holly happily.  Already she missed her parents.  She put her hand in his, said “goodbye” to the nurse, and the two walked out her room, down the hall and out a door at its end.  There was a sidewalk and a busy street on the other side.  A taxi waited for them.  Mr. Potter helped Holly into the vehicle and then got in besides her.  The taxi took off immediately and soon they were at the station.  At the station, Mr. Potter pulled out some tickets and they quickly boarded finding an empty compartment.  By this time, Holly was feeling pretty tired so she curled up on the couch and went fast to sleep.

 ********************

          “Wake up Holly,” Harry said as he shook her gently.  “It’s time to get off.”   
          Holly sat up and rubbed her bleary eyes.  “Are we there already?” she asked.   
          “That’s right,” answered Harrry.  “Come on.  Your dad will be waiting for us at the station.”  
          Holly scrambled to her feet and followed Mr. Potter off the train.  “Dad!” squealed Holly when she spotted him in the crowd.  She flew from Harry’s grasp into Dudley’s arms for a great big hug.  Harry could almost see the tension melt away from Dudley as he wrapped his arms around her.   
          Dudley’s eyes found Harry’s and he mouthed a heartfelt “Thank-you.”  Harry nodded back in acknowledgment.  He would have left them alone then and gone on home, but Harry had business to take care of with Dudley and his family.  So Harry followed the two into the car.  Dudley drove them all to his home.   
          Holly filled the car with excited chatter.  “… I got a new dress, dad, do you like it?  And new shoes too!  Do you like them?”  
          “Yes, dear,” replied Dudley, more interested in driving than her new dress and shoes.  
          “And a book—see?  And they had this purple medicine that tasted like lemon custard.  Have you ever heard of such a thing?”  
          “No, dear.”  
          “And then there were these pills—the first time I ate them they tasted like strawberries.  But the next time I think they tasted like peaches—how can the same pill have more than one flavor, dad?”  
          “I don’t know, dear.”  
          “Anyway, they tasted different every time I had them and the last time I had them they tasted like carrots.  That was pretty bad, dad.  I don’t think pills should taste like carrots do you, dad?”  
          “No, dear.”   
          “I wouldn’t have eaten them if I had known they were going to taste like carrots, dad.  Would you?”  
          “No, dear.”  Dudley looked relieved when they pulled into their driveway.  Mrs. Wycliff, Laurel, was waiting for them outside the front door.  
          “Mum!” shouted Holly with delight.  She flew out of the car and raced to hug Laurel.  She responded with a happy hug that swept Holly off her feet and in a big circle.  “I missed you so much,” said Holly.   
          “I missed you too,” Laurel whispered in her ears.  There were tears in her eyes as she looked at Harry.  
          “I’m hungry, mum, can I go get something to eat?” asked Holly.  
          “Of course, dear,” replied Laurel setting Holly down.  “Go on inside and get something.”  Holly raced inside the house leaving Harry, Dudley and Laurel outside together.  Laurel stood up and faced Harry.  Her clothes were clean and neat today.  Her hair was neatly pinned up.  There were no circles under her eyes and she wore a touch of make-up.  She looked like a new person altogether.  But there was still the fire in her eyes.  
          Laurel took a deep breath.  “I owe you an apology, Mr. Potter,” she began looking at him directly in the eyes, “The last time you were here, I, uh, forgot my manners.  Things were said that shouldn’t have been.”  Laurel cleared her throat and then continued, “We can never, _never,_ thank you enough for what you have done.  You will always be welcome into our home.”   
          Harry looked directly back at her and gave a short bow.  “Given the circumstances of our last meeting,” he replied quietly, “your behavior was quite understandable.  There is no need for an apology.”  Harry waited to see what would happen next.  Dudley shuffled his feet uncomfortably waiting also.   
          Laurel relaxed a bit, put on a brave smile and offered her hand to Harry.  “Won’t you come inside for a spot of tea?”  
          Harry took her hand gently in his for a moment before releasing it and smiled in return.  “I would like that very much,” he said.  The three of them walked inside.

********************

          Harry and Dudley sat down across from each other while they waited for Laurel to bring the tea.  Holly had found some milk and bread and was sitting in a corner eating quietly.  Dudley looked over at her.  “It’s amazing how much better she is now,” he said.   
          “Yes,” agreed Harry looking over at Holly too.  She was still painfully thin, but no longer the skeletal featherweight she had been two days earlier.  
          Laurel returned with a tray of tea and scones—freshly baked by the smell of it.  The tea and scones were rapidly served and then silence settled over the group while the food was consumed.  An aura of expectancy hovered in the air.   
          At last Harry placed his cup and saucer down and cleared his throat.  It was his turn to talk.  “First of all,” Harry began, “I owe you” he directed his look at Dudley, “a huge apology.  A mistake has been made:  a terrible, almost tragic, mistake.  Had you not contacted me we would never have had a chance to rectify it.  Holly, indeed, should have received a letter when she turned eleven.”   
          At this, Dudley sat back.  It was the news he had both suspected and dreaded to hear ever since he learned that Holly had made a complete recovery at that hospital.   
          “Let me get this straight,” started Laurel, putting down her cup and saucer.  “Are you telling me that Holly is a—”  
          “Holly is an Empath,” interrupted Harry quickly before Laurel could say the dreaded “W” word.  He was relieved to note that Dudley had at least explained something of their youth and of Harry’s world.  That made things easier, much easier.  “And a rather gifted one, at that.  When you are sad,” he continued, explaining, “Holly feels sad.  When you cut your finger, Holly feels the pain of that cut.  All those trips to the doctors and those ever changing, crazy symptoms Holly kept describing—she wasn’t lying; she was feeling the pain of the other patients in the room as if they were her own pain.  Holly,” he said turning his head to look at her.  They all looked at Holly.  Holly had finished the milk and bread and was now munching on a piece of chicken.  “Holly,” continued Harry, “is now taking some medicine that blocks outside feelings.”  
          “I don’t understand,” said Laurel.  “Look at us!  We’re not starving or wasting away.”   
          Harry nodded in agreement.  “I’ve made some inquiries into that,” he began, pulling out a small notebook.  It was purely for appearance sake.  Harry knew all this by heart.  “Your next door neighbor,” he consulted his notebook, “a Mrs. Judith Rogers, has had some difficult decisions to make this summer.  Her beloved mother has been fighting a long and painful battle with cancer.  It has been a loosing fight.”  Harry looked up from his notebook.  “Holly reported that when she came home for the summer holidays she began to feel incredibly sad.”   
          Harry tipped his head down as if again referring to his notebook and continued.  “Later, in mid July, Mrs. Rogers decided to bring her mother home from the hospital so she could die in her own bed surrounded by loving family and friends.  I’m guessing that is around the time you came back from a beach trip after which Holly reported that she felt ever so weak and tired…  She doesn’t remember much after that,” Harry concluded putting away his notebook.   
          Just then the front door burst open and Vernon came charging in.  “Hey mum, dad!” he shouted.  “Guess what!!  Remember all those cars crowded around the neighbor’s house yesterday?  Well there is a hearse out in front now!  Some lady died over there.”  He disappeared into his bedroom only to reappear momentarily carrying a camera.  “I’m going to take photos of the body as they carry it away!  Gotta hurry!  See ya!”  With that he vanished out the house forgetting to even close the front door.   
          Both Dudley’s and Laurel’s faces were ashen as they turned to look back at Harry.  “If she had been—” whispered Dudley.  He tried again. “If Holly had been here when that lady died, would Holly have dd—”  
          “I don’t know,” responded Harry quietly.  “I honestly don’t know.  She could have bounced back afterwards or—not,” he finished lamely.  Actually, Mrs. McGee, the mother, had died at 3:14a.m., the morning _before_ yesterday.  She had died about the time Harry was calling Dudley to tell him Holly was going to be all right.  Harry had spent part of the time this morning with the McGee/Rogers family asking questions and making his condolences.  The body had been kept in the house an extra day for viewing purposes before it’s removal.  Privately, Harry didn’t think Holly would have been able to “bounce back.”  He shuttered to think what would have happened had Mrs. McGee died any earlier.  
          “But—” sputtered Dudley, “How could this have happened?”  His relief at Holly’s recovery replaced by growing anger at the thought of how close Holly had come to dying.  “How could your lot have missed— How could they have screwed up so!!!”  His voice got louder and he rose up from his seat threateningly.  It was not that he wanted Holly to have received a “letter,” that would have been bad enough, but given the alternative and the pain they had gone through all summer, a “letter” might have been preferable.  
          “I am afraid that is probably my fault too,” answered Harry.  “And I am ever so sorry for that,” he added softly.  
          “What?”  Dudley sat back down.  This was not the answer he had expected.   
          Harry picked up his cup of tea and took a sip.  This was the part he had been dreading.  Harry set the cup back down.  Oh well, best get it over with.  “I, uh, don’t know how much your parents told you about my, uh problems,” he began hesitantly talking to Dudley,  “Or how much he told you, for that matter,” he said looking at Laurel.  “But when Duh—Dillon” (he’d gotten Dudley’s new name from a letter in the mailbox,)  “and I last parted company, things were pretty scary.  I had this, uh, very nasty, very powerful wi-uh, person named Lord Voldemort trying to kill me.  My friends were doing all they could to keep me alive.  We didn’t know how it would turn out or if we would even live to see the next day.”  And some of them hadn’t.  As he spoke, he could see the faces of friends, long gone Tonks, Remas, Mad Eye, Fred and others, as if it were yesterday and he felt anew, grief at their loss.  Harry forced those memories aside and continued.   
          “We did know that Lord Voldemort would not hesitate to use my family and friends against me.  That put you and your parents in danger, Duh—Dillon.  So my friends did what they could to protect you.  You went into hiding.  They gave you new identities and a new life.  I knew they had done that for you.  They didn’t give me any of the details because, unfortunately, Lord Voldemort might have been able to get that information from my mind.  So I only knew you were made safe.   
          But, besides a new life, they apparently did even more to try to protect you.  They cast every spell they could think of to insure you would not be found.  They made these spells as strong as possible because Lord Voldemort was a very powerful wizard.  Then, I think, they turned their wands upon each other and cast spells that would make them forget about you, your family and what they had done.”  Harry had spent considerable time last night with Dedalus Diggle concerning his aunt and uncle.  Dedalus denied having ever met them let alone driven them off to a new location.  No amount of prodding on Harry’s part changed that.  “They were desperate times,” Harry reflected softly.  “No one was safe from Lord Voldemort.”  Harry took another sip of tea and returned the cup to the saucer.   
          “My friends succeeded in protecting you from Lord Voldemort,” he concluded.  “They made sure you could not be found.  They apparently made you _invisible_ to the whole wizarding world as well.”  Harry looked directly at Dudley.  “I didn’t go looking for you and your family after it was all over because I thought you wouldn’t want it.  Because of the protection my friends gave you, I _couldn’t_ have found you had I tried.”   
          Dudley sat still a moment trying to take it all in.  Finally he spoke.  “What does all this have to do with Holly?”  
          Harry thought for a moment.  “I am guessing,” he said finally, “that the protection and invisibility given to you and your parents extended to your own family.  Even now those spells remain unbroken.  Had you not gone looking for me we would have never learned about Holly.  For that, I am deeply indebted to you.”   
          “What now?” asked Laurel breaking the silence that followed.  
          Harry was grateful she had changed the topic.  “Now, we get Holly into Hogwarts—as soon as possible.”  
          “Hogwarts!” sputtered Dudley.  
          “Yes, Hogwarts.  I know how you probably feel about Hogwarts, Dud—er Dillon,” said Harry, “but Holly has to learn to control her talent.  Hogwarts is the only place I know that can teach her.”  
          “But she’s got the medicine…”   
          “The medicine works for now, but with continued use, Holly will develop an immunity to it.  One day Holly’ll wake up and everyone else’s emotions will come flooding in again.  She has got to learn how to block those outside emotions before they overwhelm her like they did this summer.  We may not be so fortunate the next time…”  
          “Hello?  Is anybody in?”  Everyone looked towards the open door.  A plump head with a bowler hat appeared poking through the door.  “Oh yes, I see there is.”  Without invitation the person stepped all the way into the house.  He was a short fat man wearing a blue tweed suit.  He pulled out a business card from his wallet.  “My name is Philbert Fitchly,” he said walking further inside the house to hand his card to Dudley.  “And you are Mr. Wycliff, yes?”  Dudley did not disagree as he took the card.  “And are you Mrs. Wycliff, yes?  Of course you are,” Fitchly said handing her a card too.  He gave a third card to Harry for good measures.  
          “I work for the Puddinghamton School District.  Your lovely wife,” Fitchly continued, talking again to Dudley, “called a few days ago to report that young Holly was bedridden and would be unable to attend school for a while.  I thought I’d stop by to see how she was doing.”  He glanced around the room.  His eyes lit up when he spotted Holly.  “Is that your daughter Holly over there?” he asked walking over to her.  Holly was now eating a piece of chocolate cake that had two scoops of vanilla ice cream on top.  She looked up at him silently, her mouth full of cake.  “Of course, you must be.”  Mr. Fitchly peered into Holly’s green eyes.  “My, my,” he said.  “You don’t look bedridden at all do you?  But you do look very, very, skinny.  Have your parents been starving you?”  
          “What?  Are you crazy?” asked Dudley.  “Look at her eating!”  
          “So I see,” mused Mr. Fitchly still staring intently at Holly.  Holly looked down and took another bite.  A stray strand of blond hair fell forward as she ate.  Holly reached up with both hands and readjusted her butterfly barrette and then continued eating. “But as she is obviously not bedridden, it makes me wonder exactly why your wife called…”  
          “What do you mean?” asked Laurel defensively.  “Are you saying I lied?  Holly was sick, very sick when I called.”  
          “More like dying, I think, was the way you put it,” said Mr. Fitchly still watching Holly intently.  “If that were true, and I would never say you were lying, then Miss Holly has made a most rapid recovery, miraculous indeed.”  
          “What are you saying?” asked Dudley.  
          “Nothing, nothing,” he sighed turning to face the parents. “But given the high number of absences from school Holly has had throughout the years, none of them, I might add with a physician’s note, and looking at how skinny she is now, one has to wonder…”  
          “Wonder what?” said Dillon, his voice rising.  “Are you accusing us of something?”  
          “Excuse me,” interrupted Harry calmly breaking the tension in the room.  “But are you really from Holly’s school, Puddinghamton School?”  
          “Um, yes.”  Mr. Fitchly was disconcerted by the change in topic.   
          “Excellent,” Harry smiled as if most pleased by this information.  “I wonder if you could do a small favor for me.”   
          “Uh, what?”   
          “Miss Holly here has indeed been very sick, though perhaps, not on death’s doorstep,” Harry smiled again, lightly, as if having made a small joke.  “Her parents and I have been discussing Holly’s future.  Holly has been invited to attend the most prestigious institution of Hogwarts up north of here. Besides having an excellent educational program with a wide variety of subjects from which to choose,” continued Harry smoothly, “the staff at Hogwarts is thoroughly equipped to handle Holly’s medical problems so they won’t interfere with her academic learning.  I wonder if you would be so good as to forward a copy of Holly’s academic records to Hogwarts?”   
          Harry handed Mr. Fitchly a business card (Fitchly’s own, with new writing on it.  Harry had hastily rewritten it while the rest had been talking.) It bore the name HOGWARTS, SCHOOL FOR YOUNG STUDENTS WITH EXCEPTIONALLY GIFTED MINDS.  An address followed but it was false.  The writing on the card would return to its original lettering bearing Fitchly’s name after an hour.  Hogwarts needed no transfer papers.   
          “Uh, oh,” said Mr. Fitchly uncertainly while studying the card.  “I can do that.”  
          “Thank you so much,” said Harry.  “I would appreciate it if you could get on that right away.”  Harry nodded to the door as if dismissing Mr. Fitchley.  “Having her records would speed up the transfer process ever so much.  You understand.”  
          “Uh, yes, I do,” mumbled Mr. Fitchly turning to leave.  He looked disappointed; as if he had been all set to launch an abusive child investigation and now…  
          “Thank you so much for coming today,” added Harry while Mr. Fitchly walked out the door.  “Good-bye,” Harry called out as the door shut behind Mr. Fitchly.   
          Harry turned immediately back to the parents.  “As you probably know,” he stated, “Hogwarts has already begun this year’s term.  It is unusual for students to enter late, but this is a special situation.  I have already talked to the Headmistress and she has agreed to permit a late admission in Holly’s case.  But we have got to get her to school as soon as possible so Holly doesn’t miss much instruction.”  
          “But, Holly is so young,” protested Laurel. “She‘s never been away from home so long…”  
          “You would rather she attend the Puddinghamton School with Mr. Fitchly?” countered Harry.   
          “Well, no,” admitted Laurel to herself.  He had been unpleasant.  “But—”  
          “Mummy,” interrupted Holly.  “I want to go.”  Everyone turned to look at her.  She had finished the cake and was now holding up a partially eaten carrot-stick.  “These people made me feel all better when nobody else could.  Maybe they can help me stay that way.”   
          Laurel walked over to Holly; she knelt down in front of her and looked Holly in the eyes.  “You sure, baby?” she asked.  “You’ll be all alone there.”   
          “She won’t be alone,” interrupted Harry. “I have two sons attending Hogwarts.  The youngest, Albus, is Holly’s age.  They’ll look after her.”   
          Dudley stared at Harry.  It never occurred to him that Harry might have a family.  Dudley wavered.  He looked at Holly.  “You sure?” he asked.   
          Holly nodded.  “I’d like to give it a try,” she said.   
          “Then it’s settled,” announced Harry quickly not giving anyone a chance to continue the discussion.  “I’ll take Holly back to London tonight.  She’ll spend the night at our house there.  She can shop for her school supplies tomorrow morning and be off for Hogwarts by the end of the day.”  Harry wanted to get Holly to Hogwarts before Dudley had a chance to change his mind.  
          School supplies!  How much did everything cost?  Dudley had no idea.  “Harry, um, how much money, I mean we haven’t budgeted for—”  
          “That’s all been taken into account,” replied Harry smoothly.  “Of course you had no idea about Hogwarts and no chance to plan ahead.  My wife and I have already discussed this.”  Actually, they hadn’t really discussed it; there had been no need.  “Holly is family.  We’d be happy to take care of Holly’s expenses while at school.  It’s the least I can do to,” he hesitated, “to make up for all the problems I have caused you.”  
          “I’m hungry, mum,” Holly piped up having finished her carrot.  “When’s dinner?”  Dudley and Laurel looked down at Holly.  They looked at the pile of empty dishes on the kitchen table and then they looked at Harry…   
          Harry shrugged self-consciously.  “That, uh, that’ll wear off in a while,” he mumbled.  Then he bent down to talk to Holly.  “Holly, dear,” he said.  “I know you’re hungry.  But you need to get some rest.  Why don’t you go to your room and take a nap.  When you wake your mum will have a big dinner waiting for you.”   
          Holly nodded.  “O.K.,” she said and trotted off to her room to take a nap.   
          Harry turned to Laurel and spoke.  “You can pack her things while she is sleeping.  I’ll fetch some dinner from,” he glanced at Dudley, “what do the kids like?  Fish and chips?”  
          Dudley nodded distractedly, “Yeah, sure they like that,” he replied still not sure about letting Holly go to Hogwarts in the first place.   
          “I’ll fetch some fish and chips so you won’t have to cook,” continued Harry addressing Laurel, “and then I’ll take Holly back to London right after dinner.  O.K.?”  Harry quickly left the house before Dudley could disagree.  There was much to do.  Among other things, he had to get some more Muggle money and let Ginny know company would be coming.

 


	3. Chapter 3

          _“It is all so very strange,”_ thought Laurel as she sorted through Holly’s things deciding what to pack.  One minute she was thinking of coffins and funeral services and the next, her baby was taking off to attend a boarding school.  In both cases, Holly was leaving but at least now she was alive and would be returning.   
          _“This Hogwarts,”_ Laurel continued mentally.  _“I’ve never heard of it before.”_   She had asked Dillon about the school but he wouldn’t say much.  He only said that the school definitely existed and that Harry had attended it when they were young.  Dillon reluctantly agreed that it was probably the best school for Holly, given her “medical” condition.  
          Yesterday, after Dillon had returned home with news about Holly, he had sputtered all sorts of strange stuff about wizards and wands.  Laurel hadn’t believed any of it.  She hadn’t argued because she was too relieved to learn of Holly’s recovery.  But today, Mr. Potter, Harry, seemed to confirm what Dillon had said and Harry took it all very, very seriously.  
          It was very strange to think that Dillon had a cousin he had never once mentioned.  Harry, seemed very polite, quiet and soft spoken unlike Dillon who could be loud and opinionated.  It was clear that Harry and Dillon had no affection for each other.  Despite this, Dillon had gone to Harry when he thought all was lost for Holly.  And Harry had come to help a little girl he had never known existed.   
          Laurel looked over at Holly who was sleeping soundly under the covers.  Was it her imagination or did Holly look even better than she had when she first jumped out of the car to greet her.  It did seem miraculous how she had recovered—almost magical.  Maybe there was something to all this witchcraft and wizarding stuff after all.  
          By the time Laurel had finished packing for Holly, Harry had returned with dinner.  But it was way too much food.  Not only had he brought some fish and chips, as promised, he had brought milk, meat pies, salad, a roast chicken, mashed potatoes, three kinds of vegetables, a chocolate cake, a cheese cake, an apple pie and more ice cream.  It was more than enough food to last the week let alone a single evening.  Only a small portion of the food he had brought actually fit on the table when they sat down to eat.  
          Laurel found dinnertime most uncomfortable.  It started well enough when she told Vernon about Holly going off to school.  Vernon took the news quite well.  After all, he would soon be leaving for his second term at Smeltings—Dillon’s alma mater.  It probably seemed natural to him that Holly should be going off to school too.   
          But then Dillon had visibly flinched at the mention of the name Hogwarts and brooded the rest of the meal staring constantly at Holly.  Laurel could tell he wasn’t pleased about Holly attending the wizard school.  Neither of them was.  But they didn’t know any other way to keep Holly healthy.  
          Holly totally ignored everyone and ate steadily.  She went back for seconds, thirds, fourths, fifths, sixths…  Laurel decided that Harry had probably been wise to bring back so much food.  When Vernon commented that Holly was eating a lot, Harry had responded simply that Holly was just making up for all the meals she hadn’t eaten earlier.   
          Harry Potter kept to himself speaking briefly only when spoken to, answering only those questions he was asked.  Laurel got the impression that he was trying hard to not say anything that might aggravate Dillon further.  She wondered what Harry would be like when he was not around Dillon.  
          Laurel wanted to ask Harry a lot of questions about his family and the school Holly would be attending.  But given the way Dillon had flinched so at the mere mention of the word “Hogwarts” she decided such questions were not a good idea.  She couldn’t think of anything else to say.  
          Vernon was the only one with news that could be safely shared.  And he was happy to share it.  They all ate their meals while listening to Vernon’s cheerful descriptions of the morbid events next door.  Apparently one of the guys carrying the body had stumbled and fallen on the way out and the body had fallen off the pallet.  Vernon had taken lots of photos.  Did we want to see them?"  
          ("No, dear," replied Laurel hastily, "Not at the dinner table...")  
          Vernon's steady chatter about the neighbor and bodies made Laurel cringe especially when she thought they might have been carrying away _two_ bodies instead of one.  She wanted to tell Vernon to change subjects but did not for fear she would have to explain why…   
          Abruptly Dillon shoved his chair back and got up.  “I gotta go,” he muttered, leaving the room.  Shortly thereafter, Laurel heard the front door open and then slam shut.   
          Harry Potter started at the sound.  He looked at Laurel then down to Holly. “Holly, dear,” he said gently, “don’t you think you’ve eaten enough?”  Holly looked down at her plate almost guiltily as if realizing for the first time how much she had eaten.  “Why don’t you help your mum clear away the table and do dishes.  After that, go get your things.  It’s time for us to be leaving.”  Holly nodded and stood up with her almost empty plate.  Harry looked out towards the direction Dillon had left and then at Laurel.  “Would you excuse me, please, ma’am?”  Laurel nodded.  Harry stood and left the room.   
          “Vernon!” Laurel called out.  “You need to be helping too.”   
          “Ah, gee,” shouted back Vernon.  He had slipped into the other room to play computer games but dutifully returned.  Laurel heard the front door open again and then quietly shut.

********************         

          Twilight had just fallen; Harry could easily make out Dudley standing on the sidewalk next to the driveway of his house.  Harry walked up and stood quietly besides him.  Dudley barely noticed Harry’s arrival.  He was looking at everything and nothing.  The two stood together silently.   
          Finally, Harry spoke.  “What is it?” he asked.  Dudley did not answer.  They stood together in silence once more.  Their relationship had never been much, thought Harry, and he wouldn’t even be standing next to him today if it weren’t for Holly.  _“Holly!”_ thought Harry.  He tried again.  “What are you thinking, Dillon?”   
          Dudley gave a shutter and finally spoke.  His voice was charged with emotion.  “I was thinking I have lost Holly no matter what I do.”   
          “Lost Holly?  Whatever do you mean?”  
          “Your lot and mine,” explained Dudley heavily.  “They don’t mix.  She’ll be in your world now.”  
          “Don’t be silly, Dudley,” laughed Harry lightly.  “She’ll be home for the holidays, just like Vernon.”  
          “And after that?  We’ll never see her—she won’t want to see us.  Your kind and mine, they don’t mix!”  
          “Of course they mix,” corrected Harry thinking of Ron’s regular visits with the kids to see Hermonie’s parents.  “It just doesn’t make the news.  Holly is your daughter, Dudley, she will always be your little girl.  She loves you and you love her.  Holly will always be a part of your world and your life as long as _you_ want her to be.”   
          “Daddy?”  A soft voice interrupted their conversation.  Dudley and Harry turned around to see a small slender figure standing outside with bags all dressed and ready to go.  Dudley knelt down and Holly ran into his arms for a big hug.  Dudley stood, lifting her up, still in his arms.  “Thank-you,” she whispered in his ears.  
          “For what?” whispered Dudley back.  
          “Thank-you for finding Cousin Harry and for saving my life.  I would be ever so scared to go to this school but I know you wouldn’t let me go anywhere unless you knew it was safe.  I love you daddy.”  
          “I love you too,” whispered Dudley.  Tears streamed down his eyes.  Dudley set Holly down on the ground.  
          “Hey,” Harry said lightly. “Can we have a lift to the station?  I’d hate to have to walk there.”  
          “Sure,” replied Dudley and proceeded to load Holly’s bags into the car.  
          “Mr. Potter,” called out Laurel.  She had come out with Holly and stood on the front steps.  May I have a word with you, please.”  Harry walked over to the steps.  “My husband tells me he does not have your telephone number,” Laurel began.  “He also does not know where you live, where this Hogwarts is or even how to contact it.”  She fixed her green eyes squarely onto Harry’s.  “You are my only link to Holly.  I expect you to make it possible for me to contact both you and this school of yours.  Understand?”  
          “Yes, ma’am,” said Harry meekly.  He’d have to think about how best to do that.  
          “Don’t worry, mum,” called out Holly as she got into the car.  “I promise I’ll write.”   
          Dudley gave a sudden start—he looked over at Harry and mouthed _“Owls????”_   Harry nodded and laughed inwardly.  He suspected there might be a bit more explaining to do before the night was over.  
          “Good-bye, Mrs. Wycliff,” said Harry taking her hand in his and giving a slight bow.  “It’s been a pleasure meeting you.”  Then he turned and got into the car too.  The three of them drove off soon after.

********************

          “My parents!” exploded Dudley suddenly, breaking the silence within the car.  “What’ll I tell my parents?!!!”   
          _“Parents, yes,”_ thought Harry.  Where had _they_ been while Holly lay dying?   
          “They’re on a cruise,” continued Dudley answering Harry’s unspoken question.  “They won’t be back until the middle of October.  I hadn’t the heart to tell them about Holly.  I kept thinking she would get better…” his voice trailed off.  Harry laughed at the thought of Dudley breaking the news to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon about Holly and Hogwarts.  
          “Tell them that Holly went off to school, like Vernon,” he suggested.  “You don’t have to tell them _which_ school…”

 ********************

          The ride to London was uneventful.  Holly slept the whole way, as before.  Mr. Potter had Holly’s bags down and ready to go waking Holly only after the train had come to a stop and it was time to leave.  Bleary-eyed, Holly followed Mr. Potter as they left the station.  The two got into a waiting taxi outside the station that took them to a quiet street in the middle of a small square where the taxi driver helped Mr. Potter unload Holly’s bags, then got back into his cab and took off.  As they stood there Mr. Potter raised his hand, something clicked, and a streetlight went out.  Holly could hardly believe her eyes!  Mr. Potter clicked, and another streetlight went out.  This continued, streetlight after streetlight.  By the time all the streetlights in the square were out Holly was wide-awake!   
          “How’d you do that?” she exclaimed.   
          Mr. Potter knelt down and looked directly into Holly’s green eyes.  “You want to see something really nifty?” he asked.  Holly nodded.  “Then watch this—”  He turned and faced some of the buildings and then waited for Holly to face them too.  “Are you ready?”   
          Holly had no idea what she was supposed to be looking at, but she looked hard and nodded.  Suddenly a battered door appeared out of nowhere squishing itself between the other doors.  On either side of the door appeared some dirty walls and grimy windows.  It was as though an extra house had grown in the middle pushing those on either side out of its way.  Holly looked up at Mr. Potter’s face.   
          “Well?” he said smiling. “Did you like that?”  
          “Oh yes,” she breathed.  “That was like magic!  How did you do that?  Are you a magician or something?”   
          “Or something,” agreed Mr. Potter dryly as he picked up Holly’s bags “Come along, Holly,” he added.  “We’ve got to get going.”   
          Holly followed Mr. Potter up the worn steps chattering excitedly. “Is that why my daddy doesn’t like you much?  He doesn’t like magic and magicians.  Vernon and I wanted to go to a magic show once but dad wouldn’t let us.  He says they’re all ‘stuff and nonsense’ and a bunch of cheap tricks.”  While she spoke, Mr. Potter had taken out a small stick.  He tapped the door once.  “Wow,” said Holly in amazement as she looked at the stick and watched the door creak slowly open.  “You really _are_ a magician!  You have your own wand and everything.  I bet if my daddy saw you perform he wouldn’t call it all a bunch of cheap tricks.”  
          “No,” agreed Mr. Potter.  “I don’t suppose he would.  Come along, Holly,” he said as he stepped inside.  Holly followed.  “Welcome to my home.”   
          Holly had scarcely begun to look around when she heard soft, musical voice.   
          “Harry, you’re back.”  Holly looked at the source of the voice and saw a woman with dark red hair come forward to greet Mr. Potter.  She hugged him briefly and then stopped to look down at Holly.  
          “Uh, Holly,” addressed Mr. Potter.  “I would like you to meet my wife, Ginny.  Ginny, this is my cousin, Holly.”   
          “Pleased to meet you,” said Ginny smiling.  “I’m so glad you could come.”  Then she turned to Mr. Potter.  “Harry,” she said, “you must be tired.  Why don’t you get the lights and I’ll take care of Holly.”  
          “Thanks,” he said briefly.  He stepped back outside.  Holly heard another click.  She turned in time to see one of the streetlights go back on.   
          “Holly,” said Ginny.  “Would you like to see your room?”  
          “O.K.,” said Holly suddenly feeling very shy.  And she followed Ginny to a flight of steps.  Old-fashioned looking gas lamps lit the stairway. The lamps sat in evenly spaced holders lining the walls of both sides of the stairs.  “I’d like to see my room,” Holly continued as they mounted the steps, “but I am not really sleepy.  I slept a lot on the train.  Did you see how that door just came up between the other two?” she suddenly burst out.  “Of course you did!”  Holly continued not waiting for an answer. “You live here.  You must have!  But that was like magic!  It was really neat.  I have never seen anything like that before!”  
          The bottom of the steps had a huge picture frame covered with a dark cloth.  There were all sorts of other pictures hanging on the walls strangely illuminated by the gas lamps.  The people in the pictures seemed to be moving!  That couldn’t be right—Holly rubbed her eyes.  Maybe she _was_ tired.  Surely it was the flickering lights that made the people in the paintings seem to move!  When they reached the top, Holly stepped into a hallway filled with mysterious looking closed doors on either side and more paintings on the walls.   
          Ginny opened a door near the beginning of the hall and entered the room.  Holly followed. More lit gas lamps poked out from the walls of each side of the room.  Their flickering flames lit the room.  Holly saw a huge bed, some chairs, a small table and a dresser.  There were more paintings on the walls.  
          “Now,” said Ginny.  “Which bag has your overnight things?”  She gestured towards some bags that were stacked neatly against one wall.  Holly gaped.  How had they gotten up here so fast?  She didn’t remember seeing anyone take them from the front door.  Numbly she pointed to a small bag on top.  Ginny continued to speak as she brought the bag down and opened it for Holly.  “I know you say you are not tired, Holly,” she said, “but I understand you have been a very sick little girl.  You need your rest.  Tomorrow will be a busy day.  You get dressed for bed and I will come back to turn out the lights.”  Holly was fast asleep by the time Ginny returned.

 ********************

          Holly woke to the sound of a cough.  It was a small cough but it seemed out of place.  Holly stirred.  So many things seemed out of place these days—bedrooms, for one thing, and new relatives…  the cough sounded again.  Holly opened her eyes.  She found herself looking into the face of a very young girl.  
          “Are you awake?” the girl asked. She had big brown eyes and bright red hair.  Holly stared.  “I hope you are awake.  Mum said I mustn’t wake you and I have been waiting ever so long for you to wake up.”  
          “Who are you?”  Holly finally asked.  
          “My name is Lily,” the girl responded cheerfully, clearly happy that Holly was definitely awake.  “Your name is Holly, and you’ve got green eyes, just like dad.” she said solemnly looking into Holly’s eyes.  “Albus has green eyes too.  Mum says you’re our cousin!  Isn’t that great?!!” she added jubilantly.  “I love family, don’t you?  Then there is always somebody to play with.  But this year,” her voice fell, “Albus and James went off to Hogwarts.  They’ve only been gone a few days and already this big house seems lonely and empty.  But now you’re here!”  Lily sang happily.  
          “I guess I shall be going off to Hogwarts, too,” said Holly uncertainly. Things had happen been happening so quickly.  Wasn’t it only yesterday that this stranger calling himself Cousin Harry had even mentioned Hogwarts?   
          “Oh.  That’s too bad,” sighed Lily and her face fell.  “I wanted to go, but mum and dad said I’m not old enough.  Oh, well,” she sighed with a toss of her head, “at least I have you for today!  Mum says we get to go to Diagon Alley for shopping and that’s always fun.  Anyway, I’ve got to go downstairs to tell mum you’re awake.  Mum wants you to get dressed for the day and when you’re done, come down to breakfast.  Kreacher made a big breakfast for you.  It’s in the kitchen.”   
          “Kreacher?”  
          “He’s our house-elf,” said Lily.  “He’s nice.  He makes delicious food and plays with me sometimes when he’s not too busy.  Gotta go—” she announced as she left the room.  “MUM!  She’s up!”  Lily called out while she thumped down the steps.  
          House-elf?  Elves didn’t exist.  Did they!  Holly dressed hurriedly.  She had to get downstairs to see for herself!  Holly had no problem finding the kitchen.  It contained all the talk and familiar sounds of dishes clinking.  “Where is he?”  Holly asked breathlessly once she entered the kitchen.  
          “Where is who?” asked Ginny.  She was standing next to Lily.  “Lily, dear, you need to finish _all_ the questions on page 53 using complete sentences.”   
          “Must I?” moaned Lily.  
          “Certainly,” replied Ginny calmly,  “We’re going shopping later and by the time we get back you’ll be way too tired to finish your lessons.”  Lily grumbled.  She picked up a feather, dipped the pointed end in a bottle of ink and turned her attention to the open book in front of her.  
          “The elf!” stated Holly excitedly.  “Where's the elf?”   
          “What?  Oh Kreacher?  He’s out and about somewhere cleaning, I suppose,” answered Ginny.  
          “Kreacher is shy with strangers,” added Lily looking up from her book.  “Can’t I just do half of the questions?” she begged.   
          “Certainly, my dear,” replied Ginny.  Lily smiled.  “And then you can do the rest while Holly and I are out shopping.  I’m sure Kreacher will be happy to supervise,” Ginny added.  “I told you before, all your schoolwork must be done first, or you don’t come with us to shop.  It was your choice to sit in Holly’s room and wait for her to wake.  Now, get to work, young lady.”  
          “Yes, mum,” sighed Lily and she returned her attention to the book.   
          “Good morning, Holly,” greeted Ginny with a smile.  “Would you like some breakfast?”  
          Holly looked down at all the food placed on the table:  eggs, bacon, scones, porridge… “Uh, actually, I am not really hungry,” she replied.   
          Ginny smiled.  The body building pills must be finally wearing off.  Holly looked skinny, but not starved the way Harry had described her earlier. “That’s OK, Holly,” Ginny said. "You don’t have to eat much.  But you do have a big day today and you should eat something before we leave.  And be sure to take your po—uh—medicine too,” she added indicating the purple bottle with a spoon lying next to it.  And so Holly ate.  It took only three loaded plates before she decided she was full.   
          Mr. Potter came in as Holly was finishing the last bits of food on her plate.  “Good morning, Holly,” he greeted cheerfully.  “How are you feeling?”  
          “Just fine, sir,” she replied taking another bite.  
          “Are you all ready to do some shopping?  
          “I suppose so.”  
          “Good.”  Mr. Potter smiled.  He looked over at Lily, “Lily,” he said, “could you take your things and go into the front room?  I need to talk to Holly a bit.”  Lily nodded, grabbed her stuff and walked out of the kitchen.  Ginny followed.  When the kitchen was quiet Mr. Potter turned to Holly, “I have something for you, Holly,” he said.  “It came in the mail today.”  
          Holly froze.  “The letter?” she asked remembering that mysterious letter dad had mentioned yesterday.   
          “That’s right,” agreed Mr. Potter.  He held out a yellowish colored envelope with emerald green writing on it.  “It arrived just this morning.  It is something you should have received ages ago.  I want you to read it before we go shopping.  I think it’ll explain a lot.”   
          Holly took the envelope.  It was thick and heavy.  It was addressed:

 **Miss H. Wycliff**  
**Number 12 Grimmauld Place**  
**London**

           Ever so slowly Holly turned the envelope over.  The back had a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms: a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake surrounding a large letter H.  Trembling slightly, she carefully broke the seal and opened the letter.

           She pulled out the letter and read:

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**

          Holly looked up.  “Witchcraft and Wizardry???”  She thought.  She continued to read.   

**Headmistress:  Minerva McGonagall,**

**(Order of Merlin, International Confederation of Wizards,**  
                       **Wizengamot, Order of the Phoenix)**

**Dear Miss Wycliff,**

**We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
          Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.**

**Term began on September 1.  We welcome your arrival as soon as possible.**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Filius Flitwick**  
**Deputy Headmaster**

          Holly stared at the letter for a long time.  “I don’t think I understand,” she said finally.  “ Does this mean I am a—a witch?”  
          “It means,” said Mr. Potter gently, “that you are a very talented Empath.  And the only place where people know how to help you deal with your abilities is Hogwarts.  And yes, the students attending Hogwarts are all called witches and wizards.  
          “But, I can’t be a witch!” Holly exclaimed.  “I don’t know how to be a witch.”  
          “Of course not,” agreed Mr. Potter.  “That’s what the school is for.  It teaches you how to control and use your abilities.”  
          “With wands and everything?”  
          “That’s right.”   
          Holly thought about this for a minute.  “Mr. Potter,” she began slowly staring intently at the letter.  “My mum and dad, they don’t like things that are “different.”  They don’t like witchcraft, magic and stuff.  If I become a witch, what will—what will they think of me?  Do you think?” she continued, her voice trembling a little. “Will they still love me?” she blurted.  
          Mr. Potter took a deep breath.  “Look at me, Holly,” he commanded.  Holly looked up and stared into Mr. Potter’s green eyes.  “I don’t know about the future, Holly,” he said gently.  “But I know your parents love you a whole bunch right now.  Do you want to know how I know?”  Holly nodded afraid to speak.  “They may not like witchcraft, magic and stuff, or people that are “different,” but when you got so sick you almost died, your dad decided and your mum agreed, that if it was a choice between Holly and Hogwarts or no Holly at all, well, you know the decision they made.  It was a very difficult decision for them to make believing as they do, but they did it because they love you more than anything.”  
          Holly sat back intensely relieved.  She felt as if an enormous weight had lifted from her shoulders.  Holly had been worrying about whether her parents still loved her ever since Mr. Potter first called her an Empath.   
          Mr. Potter saw her relax; he leaned back, too. “Right,” he cheerfully said changing the subject.  “So are you ready to do some shopping?”   
          “Yes sir!” responded Holly enthusiastically.  She wondered what kind of things one needed to attend a wizard school.

********************

          Holly thought they were all supposed to go to some alley for shopping so was quite surprised when the family got out of the taxi in the middle of a street (no alley nearby) and entered a dark room behind a rickety old door, which Holly hadn’t even noticed until Mr. Potter opened it.  In the gloom Holly made out some tables and chairs with people sitting around them.  Many of the people held mugs of something from which they were drinking.  It looked like a dirty old pub.  At the sound of their entrance, they all looked up at the new arrivals.  At once many of the faces lit up with pleasure.   
          “Welcome, Harry.  It’s good to see you,” called out one person in greeting.   
          “And good to see you, too, Lee,” replied Mr. Potter warmly.  
          “Heard your youngest made Gryffindor,” called out another.  “Congratulations!”  
          “Thanks,” said Mr. Potter.  “Uh, if you’ll all excuse us, we have some shopping to do…”  He led the family though to the back door and out into a small walled courtyard.  
          “I thought we were shopping in some alley,” stated Holly when she saw the empty yard.   
          “We are,” agreed Mr. Potter.  “Watch.”  Holly watched.  Ginny had a wand in her hand and was counting out bricks on the back wall.   
          “Can I do it?” asked Lily excitedly.   
          “No, dear,” replied Ginny.  “Not until you’re old enough to get your own wand.  You know that.”  
           “Aw darn,”  Lily pouted.  
          _“Wand?”_ thought Holly with interest looking at Ginny’s wand. “Do I get a wand?” she asked as Ginny tapped the wall three times with the point of her wand.   
          “Of course, dear,” replied Ginny.  As she spoke, The brick she had touched quivered and wiggled and a small hole appeared growing wider and wider until they faced a huge archway that led to a cobbled street which twisted and turned out of sight.   
          “This,” said Mr. Potter, “is Diagon Alley.”  The four of them stepped under the archway and walked down the street.  The alley was a quiet place filled with colorful stalls and shops.  A few people in robes passed by on the paved path.  Others stood inside the shops talking with shopkeepers.   
          “Have you got your letter?” Mr. Potter asked Holly.  Holly nodded.  “May I see it?”  Holly handed him the letter.  Mr. Potter pulled out the back sheet that Holly hadn’t even bothered to look at.  “It’s your list of supplies,” he explained.  “Let’s see, pewter cauldron, size 2…  We can get that right here at the cauldron shop.”  He handed the list to his wife.  “Here, Ginny, you and Lily can get the books.  That’ll save us some time.  We’ll meet you over at Ollivander’s afterwards.”   
          “Right,” she said.  “Come along, Lily.”  The two took off turning a corner disappearing from sight.  
          Holly stared at all the cauldrons:  Pewter, brass, silver, gold, pocket sized, huge…  A CAULDRON FOR ALL OCCASIONS—the sign advertised.  In a short time, she was carrying a shiny new cauldron of her own.  “You can use it to carry your other supplies,” suggested Mr. Potter as he led her down the street.   
          They passed all sorts of intriguing stores—WEASLEY’S JOKE EMPORIUM (a sign posted in front read _CLOSED FOR VACATION—back next week_.)  Among other things, the display window showed _All Day Love Potions_ , for the quick affairs, _Exploding Wands_ , _Eyes Awake Sleeping Powder_ (so the teacher won’t know you’re asleep in his class) and _Leaping Pills_ —cross the campus in a single bound—never be late again.   
          KRUM’S FINEST QUIDDITCH SUPPLIES read another sign (whatever quidditch was)—the window contained a fancy looking twig broomstick surrounded by an assortment of banners, balls, uniforms and gloves.  Holly could also see, in back, what seemed like posters with people on broomsticks but she couldn’t tell for sure as the figures kept moving off the poster.  (However did they do that?)  
          Mr. Potter led her into a shop labeled APOTHECARY.  It was a dark, dusty place filled with barrels, boxes, vials and all sort of things hanging from the ceiling.  Were there really dragon scales inside the box, as labeled?  What did one do with the beetle eyes that she saw in an open barrel?  Mr. Potter bought her a supply of basic potion ingredients while Holly stared, wide eyed, around the shop.  
          “What’s a Knut?” Holly asked suddenly.  She had seen the word all over the place on signs.  
          “It’s Wizard money,” explained Mr. Potter.  “See?”  He held out some coins he had in his pocket.  “This little bronze one is a Knut.”  He handed her a Knut.  Holly looked at it curiously.  “The silver one is called a Sickle,” he said handing her a Sickle.  “There are twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle.  This other coin is called a Galleon,” continued Mr. Potter handing Holly a heavier, gold colored coin.  “There are seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon.  Keep them,” he told Holly when she started to hand the money back.  “You’ll want a bit of pocket money while you’re at Hogwarts though you won’t need much your first year.”  He handed Holly the rest of the coins in his hand for her to tuck away somewhere.  
          They kept walking passing shop after shop.  Along the way, people’s eyes would light up when they saw Mr. Potter and they would cheerfully greet him.  Mr. Potter always had a friendly response often stopping for a word or two with each.   
          “Everyone seems to know you,” Holly said after he had been greeted the fifth or sixth person.   
          Mr. Potter started, as if surprised at her observation. “Yes, um, well, it’s a small community,” he concluded.  And they continued down the alley greeting others along the way.  Finally, they came to a narrow, shabby shop that had a single wand on a dark purple cushion.  Bright gold letters over the door read:  OLLIVANDERS: Makers of fine Wands since 382 B.C.  A tinkling bell rang as they opened the door and stepped inside.  It was a tiny place with a single chair behind the counter.  The walls were covered with hundreds of boxes each stacked neatly one on top of each other.   
          “May I help you?” came a soft voice from behind the counter.  “Oh, Mr. Potter, it’s you!”  The voice changed to one of more than professional courtesy.   
          “Hello, Mr. Ollivander.  You are looking well today,” replied Mr. Potter warmly.  Mr. Ollivander was an incredibly old person with pale skin and huge silvery eyes.  “This is my cousin, Holly,” said Mr. Potter motioning Holly forward.  “We were wondering if you could find the right wand for her.”  
          “Cousin?” said Mr. Ollivander.  “Yes,” he mused glancing from Holly to Mr. Potter then back at Holly, “I can see the family resemblance.  I would be happy to find Miss Holly the perfect wand…”  With that, he pulled out a long tape measure with silver marking.  “Which is your wand arm?” he asked, all business-like.   
          “What?” queried Holly. “I’m, uh, right handed, so I guess my right hand…” Her voice trailed off uncertainly.   
          “Please hold out your arm,” Mr. Ollivander said.  Holly complied and he began a series of measurements.  He measured Holly from shoulder to finger, from wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and around her head.  As he measured he spoke softly.  “Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance.  I use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers and the heartstrings of dragons.  No two wands are the same and you will never get such good results with another wizard’s wand.  That will do,” said Mr. Ollivander moving to the stacks of boxes.  The tape measure crumpled to the ground.  Holly realized suddenly that it had been measuring her without the use of hands.   
          “Try this one,” he suggested holding out a box containing a dark stick.  “Ebony and unicorn, 9 inches, sturdy…  take it and give it a wave…”  Holly pulled the wand out and gingerly shook it.  The room around her seemed to shake too.  “No,” said Mr. Ollivander removing the wand from her hands.  “Definitely not this one.”  He handed her another box.  “Maybe this one…  Oak and dragon heartstrings, 10 inches—a popular combination.”  Holly shook it and only the dust swirled around her.  “Definitely not that one either.”  He handed her another wand.  “Ash and unicorn—8 and a half inches, springy…”  That one practically sprang out of her hand!  And so they continued working their way through box after box…   
          “You know,” mused Mr. Ollivander staring again at Holly’s face, “she looks a lot like…”  He turned to Mr. Potter.  “Your mother favored a willow,” he said conversationally to Mr. Potter.  “I wonder…”  He handed another box to Holly.  She took the wand and nothing happened.  Mr. Ollivander nodded but did not seem disappointed.  “Close, but not quite right,” he pronounced.  “Try this one.”  Holly took hold of the wand and felt a sudden warmth flow up through her fingers.  She shook the wand and a stream of sparks shot off much like a fireworks sparkler.  “That’s it!” said Mr. Ollivander delightedly.  “Willow and Phoenix tail feather, 9 and 3 quarters inches, supple and swishy:  a unique combination indeed.  It’s always a pleasure finding the right wand for the Potters.”  
          “Thanks,” said Mr. Potter handing to Holly the box that went with the wand she now clutched excitedly in her hand.  “Put the wand away for now, Holly.  They’ll show you how to properly use it at Hogwarts.”  Holly reluctantly replaced the wand back in its box and put the box in the cauldron.  “How much?” asked Mr. Potter.  
          “No charge for you, Mr. Potter,” said Mr. Ollivander. “My gift to the little girl.  I insist.”  
          “Nonsense,” laughed Mr. Potter.  “However will you manage to stay in business if you insist on giving away your wands.”  He placed several gold coins on the counter.  “Good to see you again, Mr. Ollivander.”  He took Holly’s hand and they left the store.

***************

          Ginny and Lily met them outside Ollivander’s.  “Well?” asked Ginny.   
          “Willow and Phoenix,” said Mr. Potter delightedly.  “It’s a real beauty.”  
          Ginny smiled warmly.  “That’s terrific,” she said.  “Now, come with me to Madam Malkin’s," she told Holly. "You need to be measured for your robes and uniform.”  Ginny handed the list to Mr. Potter.  “You can get the rest of the items on here that are not yet crossed off while we’re getting the robes done.  O.K.?  We’ll meet you at Bertie Botts’ afterwards.”  
          “Right,” agreed Mr. Potter.  And he vanished behind another corner while Holly found herself trailing along behind Ginny and Lily.   
          Madam Malcom was a short cheerful lady who immediately directed Holly to a stool when Ginny explained her purpose.  “A rush job for Hogwarts?  No problem,” she said smiling.  “We’re not busy now.”  Madam Malcom slipped a black robe over Holly’s head and began pinning.  “You’ll be wanting a set of house clothes, too, I suppose.”   
          “Yes,” agreed Ginny.  “And we want the self-washable kind if you would.  They wear ever so much better.”  
          “Of course.”   
          When Holly got off the stool, she was led to some shelves full of skirts, sweaters, shirts, ties…  all were either white or gray with white stripes.  “Rather drab,” thought Holly.   
          “You’ll want the first year size.  They stretch well with the growth spurt children have at that age.”  One of each was picked out for Holly.  “Now when you get sorted, my dear,” said Madam Malcom, “you want to take out your wand, tap each piece of clothing and say the name of your House.  Then the proper house colors will appear instead of the white.”  
          “Yes, ma’am,” said Holly, softly.  House colors?  What was that?  When they finished at Madam Malcom’s they went next door to get some socks, tights and a pair of shoes.  “Those are too large,” protested Holly when she saw the huge black shoes Ginny had picked out for her.   
          “Of course they are,” said Ginny reassuringly.  “Try them on.”  Holly slipped her feet into those huge shoes. Before her eyes they shrank to a perfect fit!  “You always buy large so they can shrink to fit and then they’ll grow with your feet.  They’re self-cleaning and waterproof, too.  It’s a very practical shoe.”  But Holly’s eyes were on another, similar pair of shoes that were bright red in color.  “Do you like the color, Holly?”  Holly nodded.  
          “You can get her the Weekend Rainbow shoes!” piped up Lily eagerly.  “They’re black on school days, and change color on the weekends.  It’s called Rainbow because you never know what color you’ll get on the weekends.”   
          “Would you like some of them, instead?” asked Ginny.  
          “Yes, ma’am,” breathed Holly.  So Holly walked out wearing her brand new Rainbow shoes—black right now, but the salesman assured her that come Saturday, they would sport a shining new color…  
          Bertie Botts turned out to be a fancy candy shop.  It also had a small café indoor/outdoor that sold sandwiches and such.  Ginny chose a small table near the wall and then they each ordered some food.  Lily ordered a muggleburger, fries and a triple soda so Holly ordered the same.  They spoke into the menu and a few moments later, the food appeared on plates on their table!  The muggleburger looked like a regular hamburger to Holly.  But it was quite tasty and she finished it quickly.  The triple soda started as cherry flavored.  While she ate, it changed color and had an orange flavor.  Later, it turned green and had a lime flavor.  For dessert, Holly ordered a huge sparkle cherry/berry surprise sundae.  
          “What’s a Muggle?” asked Holly, wondering why a muggleburger looked so much like a regular hamburger.   
          “It’s a person who doesn’t have any magic,” answered Lily in between bites of her own burger.  “Dad says your parents are Muggles.  That’s why they didn’t know what was wrong with you.”  
          “Oh.”  That didn’t explain why muggleburgers looked like hamburgers at all.   
          “Can I see your wand?” asked Lily.  
          “What?  Oh, sure.”  Holly dug out her box carrying the wand and opened it.   
          “Don’t take it out of the box now, girls,” commanded Ginny.  “I don’t want any accidents to happen.  Wait for proper instructions at Hogwarts before you start using it.  So the two left the wand in its box while they studied it intently.  The wand was pale cream colored with tiny vines and flowers carved on it made twine all around the outside.   
          “Oooh!” breathed Lily admiringly.  “Its beautiful!  James’ and Albus’ wands aren’t nearly so pretty.  I want a wand like yours!”  
          “Now Lily,” said Ginny.  “You know that’s not how wands are selected.  Mr. Ollivander will be sure to find the right wand when you are ready and it’ll be just right for you.   
          “Mrs. Potter,” began Holly as she put her wand box away.   
          “Yes, dear?”   
          “What did Madam Malcom mean by House colors?”   
          “Hogwarts has four Houses, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin.  Each House has it’s own colors,” explained Ginny.  “When you get to Hogwarts, there is a Sorting Hat.  It decides which house you are best suited and places you there.  The people in that particular house will be your family away from home.”  
          “And your son is in Gryffindor?”  Ginny nodded.  
          “And James, too,” added Lily excitedly, happy to be able to contribute to the conversation.   
          “What House will I be in?” queried Holly.  
          “I don’t know,” said Ginny.  “They are all fine Houses, each with its own unique qualities.  The Sorting Hat will take care of that.  Usually there is a fancy ceremony where the Sorting Hat makes its decisions, but that happens the first night at Hogwarts.  I don’t know how they will do it for you.”   
          Holly finished her sundae and studied the people that passed by.  They wore all sorts of colors:  blues, gold, plaids, polka dots… they were fun to watch.  
          Mr. Potter arrived carrying all sorts of bags and bundles.  He set the things down, pulled up a chair and joined the group.  Mr. Potter ordered a ham sandwich and a mushroom burger.  When the food appeared, he handed the mushroom burger to Holly.  Holly, still hungry, accepted the burger gratefully and immediately began eating it.  A mushroom burger was harder to eat than a muggleburger.  It tasted good, but it kept on puffing out like a squishy mushroom each time she opened her mouth to take a bite.  
          “Have we gotten everything on the list?” inquired Ginny.   
          “Almost,” replied Mr. Potter.  “Holly,” he said, “there is one last thing to get.  Your letter says that you may bring…” he pulled out the list and read directly from it,  “an owl, a cat, or a toad.  Now,” he continued folding the list and putting it away.  “Owls are very useful but I don’t think your dad would like it if you got an owl, and though Vernon may enjoy a toad, I don’t think that would be the right animal for you.  What would you say to a cat?”   
          Holly’s eyes grew big.  “A cat?” she said, “Oh no, I can’t have a cat.  I’m allergic to cats.”   
          “Actually,” corrected Mr. Potter with a smile,  “your next door neighbor on the other side, Mrs. Blakeson, the one with three children—she and all her kids are very allergic to cats.  I don’t think you are allergic at all.”  
          “I’m not allergic to cats?” whispered Holly.  “Really?”  Mr. Potter nodded, his eyes sparkling.  “Then,” concluded Holly, “I would very much like a cat.”  
          When everyone had finished eating they trooped over to Felicity’s Feline Emporium.  Another small shop, it’s walls were lined with shelves.  There were little ramps connecting all the shelves to each other.  The shelves were filled with cats of all kind.  Large cats, little cats, long-haired, short haired, no haired, black ones, white, orange, striped, tabby, calico...  Baskets filled with more cats hung from the ceiling, all with connecting ramps leading to the lower shelves and the other baskets.  None of the cats were in cages; they wandered up and down the ramps as they pleased yowling in various tunes.  Holly was pleased to note she didn’t sneeze or sniffle once despite the dusty, furry air, but she hadn’t the foggiest idea how to select a cat.   
          Suddenly, from above, there was a hiss, and a responding growl, Holly looked up; the hissing and growling increased and sounded very much like a catfight in progress.  As she watched, a tiny ball of gray fluff came hurling out of the basket above.  Instinctively, Holly put out her hands and caught the fluff.  It wasn’t fluff at all!  It was a tiny gray kitten with its fur all ruffled.  
          “Ah, an excellent choice, my little lady,” said the shopkeeper enthusiastically.  “That little kitten is a real spitfire when she wants.  She’ll fit into your bag and go wherever you go.  Or, you can do as I do,” she said raising her arms.  From each armhole of her peach colored robe poked the head of a cat.  “Robes are good for carrying more than wands,” she grinned.  The pointed peach and gold hat she wore on her head started to move and wiggle.  “Wizard hats are a pretty good place for cats too!” she added lifting off her hat to reveal two more cats on her head.   
          Holly looked down at the kitten.  Unbelievably, it had curled up in the palm of her hand and had begun purring loudly.   
          Mr. Potter smiled when he looked down at the kitten. “That is a pretty loud purr for something so tiny,” he said.   
          “I think she’s cute,” gushed Lily.  “Can I hold her?”  
          “Now Lily,” began Ginny,  “it’s not your cat…”   
          “No,” agreed Holly,  “but I think it’s OK.”  She looked up at the proprietor who smiled and nodded at Holly encouragingly.  So Holly put the kitten into Lily’s eager hands.   
          “She’s so sweet,” said Lily as the kitten continued to purr happily.  “What are you going to name her?”  
          “I don’t know,” said Holly thoughtfully taking back the kitten.  “I’ve never had a kitten before.”  She held the kitten up to her face.  The kitten opened its big green eyes and looked at her.  “Do you want to come with me?”  Holly asked the kitten.  In response, the kitten scrambled out of Holly’s hands and onto her shoulder.  Standing next to Holly’s ear, the kitten began to purr even louder.  
          “Is that the cat you want?” asked Mr. Potter smiling.   
          “Oh yes!” breathed Holly happily.  “She is!”   
          They left the Emporium a few minutes later with a brand new kitten perched on Holly’s shoulder.  By this time, daylight had started to dim outside.  Evening had come and the shopkeepers were putting away their wares for the night.  Mr. Potter looked around at the empty street.  
          “We need to get going,” he said.  “I’ve made arrangements to meet Hagrid outside the square after dark.  If we hurry, we should get there just in time.”  So the group quickly moved through the streets, back under the arch, out the pub and into a waiting taxi.  Soon, they were back at the quiet square unloading the taxi of all their bags.

 ********************

          Once the taxi had left, Mr. Potter again held up his hand, began clicking and the lights around the square began to go out.  When they were all out, the battered door again appeared squishing itself between the rest of the buildings.   
          Ginny went inside only to reappear carrying a large lit lantern and two oversized sweaters in her arms.  She handed one sweater to Lily and the other to Holly; both promptly put them on.  It had gotten a bit cool outside.  Holly transferred the kitten from her shoulder to a pocket she found in the front of the sweater.  “Here,” said Ginny rummaging though Holly’s things.  “You had better put this on, too.”  She held out Holly’s robe for her.  Holly put it on over her sweater.   
          A loud rumbling sound of a motorcycle interrupted the peace of the night.  It became louder and louder as a large motorcycle rolled into sight stopping right in front of them.  A huge shadowy form got off the bike.  Holly couldn’t see much as he stood behind the headlight but whomever the person, he was so tall he towered over Mr. Potter.   
          “Hagrid!” squealed Lily with pleasure.  She ran and made a flying leap into the stranger’s arms to be caught and lifted over a meter into the air by the gigantic stranger.   
          “Hi yuh, Lily,” Hagrid replied.  “Yer getting taller every minute!  Wat’cher bin eatin?  Grow powd’r?”  Lily giggled.  Hagrid shifted Lily to one side and turned to look at Mr. Potter.  “Hullo, Harry,” he said cheerfully.  “Good to see ya.”  Lily started playing with Hagrid’s bushy hair.   
          “Hello, Hagrid,” replied Mr. Potter warmly.  “It’s good to see you too.”  Hagrid stuck out a big hand and Mr. Potter shook that hand in both of his.  “Yeh, too, Ginny,” said Hagrid nodding at Ginny.  “Yer lookin’ lovli’r than ev’r.”  Ginny smiled.   
          “Hagrid, how’s school?” she asked.   
          “Jes’ fine,” he responded.  “Jes” fine.”  He looked over at Holly.  “Blimey, Harry, she looks jes’ like—”   
          “I wondered,” interrupted Mr. Potter who was also looking at Holly.  “This,” he continued making introductions, “is my cousin, Holly.  Holly, this is Hagrid.  He’s agreed to take you to Hogwarts tonight.  He’s one of the professors.”   
          Hagrid bent down and offered Holly his hand.  “Glad ter meet yeh,” he said.  For the first time Holly could see him clearly illuminated by the lantern Ginny held.  Hagrid was indeed huge.  He wore some sort of fur for clothing and had thick bushy hair and beard.  But Holly was not afraid when she offered her hand in return.  Who could be afraid of someone with Lily happily perched on his shoulder and two stubby fat braids sticking out crazily on one side of his face…  
          “Lily!” said Ginny, scandalized.  “You take those braids out immediately!  He’s a professor!  Treat him with respect!”  
          Lily frowned.  “He’s not _my_ professor,” she said sulkily.  “Not yet.”  But she began to undo the braids she had placed in moments earlier.   
          “Harry!” said Ginny. “Talk to her!”   
          Harry looked at Hagrid with the remaining comical braid still sticking out.  He smiled.  “No harm done,” Harry said mildly.  In truth, what Lily had done was probably the best thing possible.  Hagrid could be imposing and a bit frightening at first glance.  He had gone off with Hagrid willingly because the alternative was to stay with the Dursleys.  Holly had no such incentive.  Anything that made Hagrid less fearful to Holly was a good thing as far as Harry was concerned.   
          Mr. Potter turned his attention to the motorcycle.  “You’ve done wonders, Hagrid,” he said.  “I still can’t believe you managed to find all the pieces and put the bike together again.”   
          “Jes’ somethin’ ta do in me free time,” said Hagrid proudly.  “Yeh like it?”   
          “I do indeed,” said Mr. Potter wonderingly.  “You’d never know it was in an accident.  But what is that?  He looked at something hanging from the side of the motorcycle.  “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”  In the flickering light Holly could barely make out what seemed to be a chair of some sort attached to the motorcycle.  
          “Yeh don’ think I’d let yer Holly spend the night in a simple side car, didja?  I found me a right comfy chair fer her ta sit in wid nice high sides ta lean ag’nst.  Then I took it over ta Hermione an’ she put sum safty spells on it ta make sure Holly won’ fall out.   
          “Er, thanks, Hagrid,” said Harry faintly.  “That was good thinking of you.”  Harry had chosen the motorcycle as a method of travel most familiar to Holly, thus least distressing.  But with that crazy looking chair attached to the bike...  Oh well.  
          “Have you time for a spot of tea before you leave?” asked Ginny, interrupting Harry’s thoughts.  
          “Thank yeh, but no,” replied Hagrid.  “We’ve a long ways ta go t’night an’ I want ta git ta Hogwarts by daylight.”  Hagrid put Lily down.  “Come along, Holly,” he said.  “Time ter be go’n’.”   
          Holly followed Hagrid to the other side of the motorcycle.  “What about my things?” she asked.  
          “Th’ll be transfer’d ta Hogwarts separately an’ be wait’n fer yeh when we get there,” answered Hagrid as he removed the pillow and blanket.  “Up yeh go,” he said lifting Holly into the chair.  It was indeed a very soft, comfortable chair.  Holly leaned back and Hagrid placed the pillow next to her for later use.  Then he tucked the thick blanket all around her.  “That’ll keep yer all nice ‘n warm.”  
          Mr. Potter stepped forward.  “Are you all ready to go?” he said, looking into her eyes.   
          “I guess so,” said Holly.  She was a little scared.  She had never ridden on a motorcycle before.   
          “Don’t forget to write your parents when you get settled.”   
          Holly brightened at that thought.  “Then I could tell them all about Diagon Alley!” she said excitedly.   
          Mr. Potter gave a start.  “Ah Holly,” he began, “you remember how you said your parents didn’t like things that were different?”  Holly nodded.  “Well I think you should wait and tell them all the, ah, _different_ stuff when you see them in person, if they ask.  O.K.?”   
          “O.K.,” she said.   
          “Give us a few minutes befer yeh start the works,” said Hagrid as he started the motorcycle.   
          Harry nodded.  He had a distraction ready to set off so no one would be looking in Hagrid’s direction when the two left.  “Good-bye, Holly,” he said.   
          “Good-bye,” chimed in Lily and Ginny waving.  
          “Good-bye,” said Holly, as the bike started moving.  It rolled into a big circle before leaving the square.  Holly waved “good-bye” to the Potters.  Then the motorcycle turned a corner and she could see them no more. 

 


	4. Chapter 4

          The two drove straight for a while and then rounded another corner.  Holly heard a loud _boom_ behind her.  Instantly, she stood up and looked over the back seat of the chair.  She could just see the sparkle of some fireworks over the roofs of the buildings.  _Boom!_  The sound happened again.  The fireworks were easier to see.  Holly watched excitedly.  She rarely got to see fireworks.  _Boom!  Boom!_   What a great view!   
          “Holly!  Git down!” shouted Hagrid over the noise of the motorcycle.  “T’ain’t saf’ fer yeh ta be standin’.”   
          That’s when Holly looked down…  She suddenly clutched the edge of her chair tightly.  No wonder the view was so great.  They were no longer on the ground!  She carefully slid herself down back into the seat grabbing the sides of the chair.  They were flying!  How could they be flying?!  _Boom!  Boom!_   Holly no longer tried to look at the fireworks.  She had her eyes tightly closed!  What if they fell?   
          After a while, Holly cautiously opened one eye.  Yes, they were still flying!  She opened the other eye.  It didn’t feel like they would fall…  She looked around; then she looked down.  The buildings looked like little dollhouses and cars looked like toys.  Fascinated, Holly watched some more.  Seeing London from the air was fantastic!  The roads twisted and turned lit by tiny streetlights with teeny doll-sized cars moving up and down the roads.  She wished it were daylight so she could see more.   
          Eventually, the city lights tapered off.  Holly saw fewer and fewer lights until all she could see were the sparkly lights of the stars above.  With nothing more to look at Holly began to feel sleepy.  Grabbing the pillow, she plumped it up.  Placing it to one side she curled up under the blanket resting her head against the pillow.  The steady roar of the motorcycle acted as a background lullaby and Holly fell fast asleep. 

 ********************

          Morning had just begun when the motorcycle landed near a small hut on the hillside.  Outside the gray of twilight was slowly but steadily getting brighter and more colorful.  A few birds had begun their morning songs.   
          Hagrid shut off the motorcycle light and turned off the engine.  He rolled the bike into a small building.  He leaned over to the chair and gently shook the figure within.  “Wake up, Holly,” he said softly.  “We’re ‘ere.”   
          Holly stirred and then sat up.  She had been dreaming about giants, flying motorcycles and tiny buildings.  She rubbed her eyes and looked around.  Through the doors she could see nothing but a clearing with trees beyond.  Next to her stood the hugest person she had ever seen!  Maybe she hadn’t been dreaming.  Holly thought back on all that had happened yesterday.  She slipped her hand into her pocket.  Sure enough, there was this warm ball of fluff that stirred and started purring at her touch.  She looked down at her feet.  The shoes!  They weren’t black any more!  It was too dark to tell their color but they definitely weren’t black!  Carefully Holly slid off the chair and walked to the doorway.  She stopped and looked up at Hagrid.  _“What now,”_ she wondered.   
          Hagrid moved forward and stepped outside.  “C’mon ‘long, Holly,” he said.  “Got ta git yeh to the Headmistress.”  
          So Holly followed Hagrid up a pathway away from the small hut.  Soon they came to a huge lawn and beyond it stood a huge castle.  Hagrid stopped a moment to let Holly catch up.  “Tha’s Hogwarts,” he said proudly letting her take a moment to look about.  “T’ain’t no better place th’n Hogwarts.”  It was still fairly dark out.  Holly couldn’t make out much but high grey walls and still higher towers with pointy roofs sticking out from within.  Hagrid led Holly up to the front steps and then to the huge rounded doors.  To Holly’s surprise, the doors opened on their own and the two walked right in.  
          The entryway was huge.  Smoky torches placed in holders mounted high in the walls cast eerie shadows on the walls.  The ceiling was so high that the entryway made Hagrid seem small in comparison.  Hagrid walked briskly through the entryway and up some stairs.  Holly hurried to keep up with him.  He kept walking down one hall and then another.  The suits of armor lining the hall clinked as they walked by.  The people in the portraits seemed to move and stir as they passed—but surely that was because of the flickering lights of the torches.  Hagrid headed towards some more huge doors; they opened as he drew near.   
          The two walked into a room full of stairs.  There were so many stairs Holly couldn’t begin to count them.  Hagrid led her onto one set of stairs.  Holly followed.  Once she stood next to Hagrid on the steps, the stairs moved!  As Holly looked around, the rest of the stairs began to move also!  Hagrid kept climbing up the stairs.  Holly followed.  Hagrid moved so quickly Holly didn’t have time to be scared.  When they reached the top of the steps Hagrid walked onto another set of steps that had floated into place.  Panting, Holly struggled to keep pace.  This continued for several flights of steps.  Holly was glad when Hagrid got off the steps altogether and walked down another hall.  At least the floor was level.   
          At the end of the hall was a large stone gargoyle.  “Purple Truffles,” said Hagrid to the gargoyle.  The gargoyle sprang to life; it leapt aside and the wall behind it split in two to reveal a stone staircase that moved continuously upward like a spiral escalator.  The two of them stepped onto the moving stairs; the wall closed behind them with a thud.  They moved upward in tightly spiraling circles until they reached a highly polished oak door with a shiny brass knocker shaped like a griffin.  Hagrid sharply rapped on the door three times and the door opened.  
          The two entered a circular room with a high ceiling.  There were a couple of shelves mostly filled with books lining the room.  The rest of the wall was taken up with portraits.  Most noticeable of the portraits was the one of an incredibly old man with white hair and a long white beard who greeted Holly with a smile and a wink (they really do move!) as they stepped into the room.  Next to it was a portrait of a much younger man with sallow skin, dark black hair, a hooked nose and dark beady eyes.  He seemed to glare at Holly.  That person didn’t look very nice at all.   
          Two people were in the room already.  One was a stern looking elderly lady with square glasses and her hair tied back in a bun.  She was wearing an emerald green and scarlet plaid robe and a tall hat.  She sat behind a large claw footed desk.  The other was another elderly lady seated in a chair in front of the desk.  She was wearing all white with a white hat of sorts covering her head.  Both women looked up as they entered.  
          “Headmistress McGonagall,” announced Hagrid.  “This ‘ere is Miss Holly Wycliff.”   
          The lady behind the desk rose.  “I am happy to meet you, Miss Wycliff.”  She held out her hand to Holly.  Holly moved forward and shook the hand.  The Headmistress’ grip was firm but friendly.  “May I introduce to you to Madam Pomfrey,” she said turning to the second lady wearing white who rose at the introduction.  “She will be the nurse supervising your medical treatment under Healer Winnonan.”   
          “Hello there,” said Madam Pomfrey kindly while offering Holly her hand.  “Have you taken your medicine today?”  
          “Um, no,” said Holly as they shook hands.  Holly looked down guiltily.  There hadn’t been time.  
          “Excellent, excellent,” exclaimed Madam Pomfrey cheerfully.  “Don’t.  You can’t learn to control what you can’t feel, now can you.  Come round to my office after dinner and we’ll see what we can do to help you.”  She noticed the kitten poking its head curiously out of the pocket.  “Ah, you’ve got a kitten!” she added smiling.  “Even better.  Bring the kitten along too.”  
          “I, uh, guess I’ll be goin’ now,” said Hagrid shuffling his feet uncomfortably.   
          “Please stay,” said Headmistress McGonagall.  Using her wand she pointed at an empty place in the room and a huge chair suddenly appeared.  Next to it materialized a smaller chair.  “Take a seat,” she requested.  So Holly and Hagrid both sat down.  Madam Pomfrey sat also.  “I believe we should have witnesses for this,” Headmistress McGonagall continued.   
          “Miss Wycliff,” said Headmistress McGonagall, addressing Holly, “at the beginning of the school term we have a ceremony here called “Sorting.”  In it each student is sorted into one of four houses:  Gryffindore, Ravenclaw, Slytheryn or Hufflepuff.  Obviously you missed the ceremony, but you still need to be sorted.”    
          She turned and pulled a battered, pointed wizard’s hat from off the shelf behind her and placed it on the desk.  The hat was patched, frayed, and extremely dirty.  Holly could even see scorch marks in places.  “This is the sorting hat.”   
          Holly looked at the hat wondering what would happen next.  For a few seconds nothing happened at all.  Then the hat gave a sort of a shiver and a shake.  A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth and the hat began to speak!

                                                _Our sorting now is almost done,_  
_All that’s left to sort is one._

 _Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor,_  
                                                _Which fine house will get one more?_

          Then the hat fell silent.  Headmistress McGonagall picked the hat off her desk and placed it gently on top of Holly’s head.  It was way too large and the brim fell over her eyes covering her nose.  Holly felt extremely stupid wearing it.  
          Suddenly, a tiny voice sounded within her head.  “Hmm,” it said.  “Hard working, loyal, fair, just.  I think I know just the place for you…  HUFFLEPUFF!”  The voice announced out loud for everyone else to hear.  Immediately, the hat was removed from her head.  Holly opened her eyes and saw everyone in the room was smiling as if Hufflepuff was the best news ever.   
          “Well done,” congratulated Madam Pomfrey.  “Some of the best healers come from Hufflepuff!”   
          “Healers?” questioned Holly.  
          “Of course,” said Madam Pomfrey.  “Your skills as an Empath could give you an inside edge on every ailment.”   
          Meanwhile, Headmistress McGonagall had been using a quill to write something on a piece of paper.  “Hagrid,” she said.  “Could you see to it that Miss Wycliff’s things are delivered to the Hufflepuff House?  Also, on the way down, could you please show Miss Wycliff to Professor Iverson’s office?  Give the Professor this,” she said handing the now folded paper to Hagrid.  “Thank you.”  She turned to Holly.  “Professor Iverson,” she explained, “is the Head of the Hufflepuff House.  She’ll get you set up in Hufflepuff.  Congratulations, Miss Wycliff,” she continued smiling.  “It’s been so nice meeting you.”  Hagrid and Holly stood up and left the room.  
          The trip to Professor Iverson’s office was another maze of stairs and hallways.  But finally Hagrid stopped in front of an unlabeled door.  He knocked.  
          “Come in,” came a voice from within.  Hagrid opened the door and the two stepped inside.  Small candles perched in holders flickered gently casting moving light and shadows around the room.  The office was decorated in tones of brown, brown wood paneling with mahogany wainscoting.  In one corner stood what appeared to be a tree trunk with thick branches reaching out into the ceiling.  From a broken branch near the ceiling hung a long robe that was mottled orange and brown in color; an umbrella with similar colors hung from another branch.  A high desk seemed to be growing out of the roots of the tree.  Sitting at that desk was a thin dark skinned woman with long straight brown hair and dark brown eyes wearing a brown suit.  She looked up as they entered.  
          “Professor Iverson?” began Hagrid.  “This is Miss Holly Wycliff.  She’s jes’ bin sorted into Hufflepuff.  Here’s a letter from Professor McGonagall ‘splainin’ it all,” he added handing her the letter.  “Now, if’n you’ll excuse me, I’ve got ta git goin’.  Good-bye, Miss Wycliff,” said Hagrid turning to Holly.  “I’ll be seein’ ya later.”  Hagrid left, leaving Holly standing in front of Professor Iverson.   
          Professor Iverson carefully read the message that Professor McGonagall had written.  Then she re-folded it and looked up at Holly smiling.  “Well,” she said.  “What a pleasant surprise.  Welcome to Hufflepuff.”   
          “Uh, thank you,” said Holly uncertainly.  She wondered what Hufflepuff was like.   
          Professor Iverson picked up a brown quill and began writing.  Then she folded up the message and handed it to a tiny speckled brown owl that sat snoozing on a stand behind him.  “Take this message to Prefect Feinstein,” she commanded waking the owl.  The owl shook its feathers and then took off flying out of the office.   
          “Now,” said Professor Iverson returning her attention to Holly.  “Let me get you a schedule of your classes.  You’ll be taking Potions, Astrology, Herbology, the History of Magic, Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense against the Dark Arts.  It says here you are also to visit Madam Pomfrey every evening after dinner until further notice.  Let me add that to your schedule for you.”  
          She rummaged around with her papers a bit, wrote something on one of them and handed it to Holly.  “Don’t loose this until you remember all your classes,” she said.  “Your classmates will show you the way to the classes.  Have you got all your school things?” she asked, looking at Holly.  Holly nodded.  “Good.  I must remember to pass a note to all the professors about you so you will be expected,” she said to herself and wrote some other things down on another piece of paper.   
          There was a quiet knock on the open door.  Holly turned and looked.  Standing outside was a tall girl wearing a black robe.  She had almond shaped eyes and bangs.  Her short curly black hair was kept in place and out of her face by a narrow black and silver headband.  The robe had a shiny silver badge on the right side.  “You asked for me?” said the girl.  
          “Yes, Miss Feinstein,” said Professor Iverson putting down her quill and looking up from her writing.  “This is Miss Holly Wycliff.  Miss Wycliff, this is Prefect Gwen Feinstein.  She is one of the head students of the Hufflepuff House.  Miss Wycliff has just been sorted into Hufflepuff.  She wasn’t here sooner because she was very sick.  She’ll need some help catching up with this week’s work.  Could you take her to the dorms, Miss Feinstein, show her the ropes, and help her get settled in?”  
          Miss Feinstein’s face lit up. “Gladly,” she said smiling, her eyes sparkled.  “Come along Holly,” she said holding out her hand.  Holly took it.  The two left the office and walked down the hall.  
          “So,” said Gwen conversationally.  “What did you have?  You don’t look too sick now.”  
          “I, um, wasn’t sick, not really,” said Holly uncertainly.  
          “Oh?”  
          “I mean, I did feel just awful, but it wasn’t me, it was really my neighbor who was sick…  and, um, I sort of got sick too.”  
          “Oh?”  The question was in Gwen’s voice but she didn’t press.  They walked along in silence.   
          Holly stared at all the paintings that lined the walls—paintings containing people that seemed to move and look at them as they passed.  Then she looked down at her shoes that now appeared bright yellow.  “I, uh, they say I’m an Empath!” Holly blurted out suddenly.  There, she had said the word.  What would Gwen do when she heard it?  The word hadn’t been all that welcome at her parent’s house.  It marked her as different and being different scared Holly very much.   
          Gwen stopped and looked down at Holly.  “Are you really?” she asked.  Holly nodded not meeting Gwen’s eyes instead staring resolutely down at her yellow shoes.  “But that’s terrific!” responded Gwen enthusiastically.   
          Holly looked up.  “You mean it?” she asked uncertainly.  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be an Empath.  
          “Of course!” continued Gwen eagerly.  And the two started walking down the hall again.  “I’ve never met an Empath before.  They’re incredibly rare.”  Then Gwen stopped again.  “But why didn’t your parents—” she began, “how come they didn’t notice sooner—You know, take steps so you wouldn’t get so sick?”  
          “They’re, um, Muggles,” responded Holly uncertainly.  That was the term Lily used wasn’t it?  
          “Oh,” said Gwen as if that explained everything.  “No wonder.  But no matter, you’re here now and everything will be all right.”   
          They reached the stairs.  “Don’t take the first step,” commanded Gwen as she stepped over it herself.  “Then the steps go to the second floor, west wing.  We want to go to the fifth floor east wing.”  They continued up the stairs with Gwen giving tips and suggestions about how best to get around Hogwarts.  
          “We don’t have a Physical Education class here at Hogwarts,” explained Gwen.  “By the time we finish going up and down all these stairs, we’ve had plenty of exercise.  Stick close to some of the other students until you get these stairs all figured out,” she recommended.  Gwen continued to talk about everything and anything to do with Hogwarts.  Holly, knowing nothing about Hogwarts, was happy to listen.  “The Slytherins are a bit of a bully, the Ravenclaws are terribly smart; they tend to ignore you unless they think you’re smart too…” continued Gwen.  
          “What about the Griffindors?” asked Holly curiously.  That was the House her cousins were in.  
          “The Gryffindors?”  Gwen paused to think about that.  “Well, they’re O.K.  A bit mouthy and tend to get into trouble a lot but not too bad otherwise...”  
          They stepped off the stairs and went down another hallway, presumably on the fifth floor, but by this time, Holly had lost count of how many flights she had gone up and down.  “…and don’t worry about the teachers,” continued Gwen in her nonstop chatter.  “They are all pretty nice as long as they know you are trying your best.  Though Professor Hagrid _is_ a bit scary when you first see him…”  
          The two came to a stop at the end of a hall in front of a huge painting.  It had a courtroom scene with an angry looking Judge in wig and gown holding a gavel and a jury of solemn men with a witness standing in the box giving testimony.  The Judge turned and looked at them.  “Password,” he said impatiently, obviously annoyed at being distracted from the trial.  
          “Um, let’s see,” said Gwen.  “Oh, I know…  What do whales eat for lunch?”   
          If possible, the Judge looked even angrier.  “What!” he growled.   
          “Fish and ships!”  
          The Judge looked so angry Holly thought he would burst.  He did, actually.  He burst into laughter—gales and gales of laughter.  The whole courtroom erupted into laughter too.  “Good one,” chuckled the Judge.  And the portrait swung open revealing an opening behind.  
          “You tell a joke?” asked Holly as they climbed through the opening.  
          “Uh huh,” confirmed Gwen.  “And it must be a different joke every time or he won’t let you in.”  
          “But I don’t know any jokes.”   
          “You’d better learn some.  We’ve several joke books in the common room library to help out but he always likes it best if it’s a new one.”   
          “But, what if I can’t remember one?” worried Holly as they climbed up a new set of steps that wound around the inside of a tower.  
          “Think of a new one.”  
          “I could never do that.  It wouldn’t be good enough to make him laugh,” moaned Holly.  
          “Well,” sighed Gwen, “if you’re really desperate, you can always describe a beautiful bouquet of flowers or a really good sunset you once saw.  He’ll usually let you in if there’s enough description.  Our ancestor, Helga Hufflepuff, the one our house is named after, believed that while you should work hard and try your best, you should also take time out to smell the roses and enjoy life a bit.”  
          They came to a huge door that opened upon their arrival.  Inside Holly saw several comfortable looking chairs, tables and sofas.  A fire burned merrily in a hearth and huge windows let in the morning light.  A few students wearing robes were in the room; they looked up curiously from their books at Gwen’s arrival.   
          “This is the Hufflepuff common room,” explained Gwen.  “The girls’ rooms are upstairs, on the left and the boys’ rooms are on the right.”  Gwen clapped her hands loudly and raised her voice.  “Listen up, everyone.  We need a House meeting, now, before breakfast.  Pass the word.  I want everyone down here.”  Some of the seated students rose and moved towards the bedrooms.   
          “What’s up?” asked one that remained.   
          “I’ll tell you when we’re all here,” said Gwen.  “That way I won’t have to repeat myself.”  In a short time the common room was filled with students of all sizes most of them wearing black robes over regular looking clothes.  Large ones and small, short, tall, black, brown, white, Asian…  Holly didn’t know how they all fit into what had seemed like a fairly small area.  But they did.  They all looked curiously at Holly but waited until Gwen was ready to speak.  
          “Are we all here?” asked Gwen.  The students looked about and nodded.  “Right,” continued Gwen.  “Everyone, I would like you to meet Miss Holly Wycliff.  She has just been sorted into Hufflepuff!”   
          After a moment of stunned silence everyone began to cheer.  “Welcome!”  
          “Glad to have you!”    
          “Well done.  We’ve got one more!”  
          “But how is that possible?” broke in a black haired boy also wearing a badge on his robes.  Holly later learned his name was Ben Harris.   
          The room quieted down to hear Gwen’s explanation.  “Apparently,” Gwen began, “Holly was pretty sick the first days of school or rather, she wasn’t sick, but her neighbors were.”  Everyone looked at Gwen, confused.  “Holly is an Empath!”  Gwen concluded triumphantly.  “And for those of you who don’t know what an Empath is, Holly can feel when other people get sick.  Correct me if I am wrong, Holly,” Gwen turned to Holly.  “But you haven’t yet learned how to block outside feelings have you?”  Holly nodded.  “So when Holly’s neighbors got sick Holly got sick too.  Holly has Muggle parents and they didn’t know what was going on so Holly got sicker and sicker… but that’s all been sorted out now and we’ve got Holly in Hufflepuff!”  Again everyone clapped and cheered.  
          “Hold on there,” cautioned Ben.  “We’d better keep the Empath stuff to ourselves.”  
          “Why?” asked Susan Breysburry, a plump red haired girl with lots of freckles.  She reached out casually and caught a small spider crawling by.  Then she carefully opened her hand and set the spider down on her arm letting it crawl free.  
          “Because the Slytherns are a bit of a bully.  If they find out they can hurt two of us with the same blow so to speak, well, they’ll never leave Holly alone.”  
          “And,” continued Gwen, “until Holly learns to block, that also means no Puking Pastilles, Nosebleed Nougats or any other of those practical jokes around her; we don’t know how they will affect Holly and for heaven’s sake, if you feel sick or you’ve got a toothache, get yourself down to Madam Pomfrey immediately!  We don’t need two people in our house feeling ill now, do we?”  Everyone nodded in agreement.  A brown haired boy with glasses and bangs quickly folded and tucked away a bag he had been holding that had a large red calligraphy style “W” printed on the outside.  His name was Micky O’Toole, also a first year.  
          “Right,” said Gwen sounding more business like.  “Now, Holly will need a bit of settling in to do.  Who plans to come back up to the dorms after breakfast?”  Several hands rose up.  “Perfect.  Uh, Marcy, will you make sure Holly doesn’t get lost on the way back to the dorms?”   
          “Sure,” said Marcy Huckaby.  She looked older than Holly with olive colored skin, brown eyes and long brown hair pinned neatly back in some sort of a bun.  
          “I saw an empty bed and a pile of stuff by my bed when I left the dorms this morning,” piped a girl with glasses and brown hair that hung in two thick braids down her shoulders.  She had also raised her hand when asked about returning to the dorms.   
          “Good,” said Gwen.  “When we finish with this meeting you can show Holly her bed and where to put her things.  Thanks, Becky.”  Becky Smith gave a small smile.  “Now, who, among the Firsts, took notes during class this week including all the assignments?”  Several hands flew up.  “And which one of you think someone else could actually  _read_ your notes?”  Several hands went down but a few remained up.   
          “Mark,” directed the Ben after looking at those with their hand still up.  “I’ve seen your handwriting.  It’s pretty good.  Why don’t you lend Holly your notes so she can copy them after breakfast.”   
          Mark Owens, a studious looking boy with thick glasses and short black hair, nodded.  “No problem,” he said.  
          “And we need to sign you up with a tutor,” added Ben.  “Who’s still free?”  The students looked around at each other.  
          “I am,” came a deep voice from in back. Holly looked curiously at the speaker; he was an older student with dark brown hair and blue-gray eyes.  He seemed nice enough and gave a friendly nod to Holly.  
          Gwen smiled.  “Super!” she said enthusiastically.  “Holly, meet Roland DeWitt.  He’ll be your tutor starting next week.  Ask him for help should you run into any problems with your classes.”  
          “After lunch, I’ll work with you with your wand,” said Gwen to Holly.  “Anyone else who wants some wand practice can join us too.  We’ll be in the courtyard to the right of the front doors of Hogwarts.  That way you won’t accidentally hurt anything,” said Gwen to the rest of the group.  Several students laughed at that.   
          “Any questions?”  There were none.  “Anything else?”  No one could think of anything.  “Well,” said Gwen with a toss of her curly head,  “I guess that’s it for now.  Let’s go down for breakfast.  I don’t know about you but I’m starved!”  Lots of students nodded in agreement at that.  Even Holly felt a hungry rumble in her stomach.  “So remember,” finished Gwen, “work hard, do your best and if we help each other _we can do anything_.”  That last part was said by the group as a whole and was obviously a line frequently repeated in Hufflepuff.  With that, the meeting broke up.

 ********************

          Holly followed Becky into the Dorms.  “This way,” Becky said and showed Holly a huge four-poster bed with a pile of clothes and supplies neatly stacked next to it.  “My bed is this one over here,” said Becky pointing to a nearby bed.  Holly’s kitten immediately crawled out of her pocket jumped up onto Holly’s bed and curled up on the pillow.  “She’s beautiful!” admired Becky.  “What’s her name?”   
          “I haven’t named her yet,” admitted Holly thoughtfully.  “It has to be something special.”  The two of them proceeded to unpack Holly’s things and put them away in a waiting empty dresser that somehow managed to shrink and slide neatly under the bed when they finished filling it.   
          “Don’t ask me how,” exclaimed Becky.  “My parents are Muggles, too, and I haven’t the foggiest idea how things work around here.”  That made Holly feel loads better; she wasn’t the only one there with Muggle parents.   
          Mark was waiting for Holly with his notes when she reentered the common room.  “Put them on your bed,” he recommended as he handed her the notes.  “I don’t want them to get misplaced or lost.”  He waited until Holly returned without the notes and the three of them went down the stairs for breakfast.  
          It turned out that Mark came from a wizard family and while he had never attended Hogwarts before this term, he was full of stories and information about Hogwarts and wizards.  Both Holly and Becky peppered him with questions.  Holly, because she knew nothing about Hogwarts, their classes or wizards and Becky because she knew enough to realize she knew practically nothing.   
          “How come my wand doesn’t work right?” Becky complained.  “Everyone else’s wand did so much better than mine.  Mine just kind of fizzled.”  
          “Did you get it at Ollivander’s?” asked Mark after he heard her woes.   
          “No,” admitted Becky.  “We got it from a street vendor at the front of the alley.  What's Ollivander’s?”  
          “Well, that’s your problem.  Ollivander’s is the only place that makes decent wands,” said Mark decisively.  “Have your parents take you right down to Ollivander’s over Christmas break and get a proper wand.  Then it’ll work a whole lot better.  Never get your wand second hand,” he continued.  “My mum says that each wand fits a certain personality somehow and if your wand has a personality that doesn’t match yours, or something like that, then it won’t work right.”   
          Mark lowered his voice.  “That’s one of the reason You-Know-Who lost to Harry Potter!  There was something wrong with his wand.  Mum was there when it happened and she heard Harry Potter tell him so but You-Know-Who wouldn’t listen.”  
          “You-Know-Who?” asked Becky.  
          “Oh, that’s right,” said Mark.  “You don’t know about him.  You’re both from Muggle families.  Well, about 20 years ago, when my parents were going to school here, there was this really powerful, really evil wizard, so evil everyone was afraid to say his name.  I’m not even sure _I_   know his proper name.  
          _“Voldemort!”_ thought Holly.  She knew his name.  
          “Well,” continued Mark in a whisper, “he tried to take over the whole wizarding world and threatened to take over the Muggle world as well.  Harry Potter faced off against this wizard right here in the Great Hall of Hogwarts and the evil wizard lost!  No one knows quite how it happened.  After all, Harry Potter dropped out of school after his sixth year so he couldn’t have known as much as You-Know-Who, who had been studying magic for over 50 years.  But Harry Potter knew enough to defeat him somehow and he did!  Ah, here we are, the Great Hall.”  
          Mark led them the to the Hufflepuff table.  Along the way he gave Holly and Becky a brief explanation of the colors and banners hanging over each table.  A gold lion on a scarlet background for Gryffindor, a silver snake against green for Slytherin, a bronze eagle set against blue for Ravenclaw, and a black badger with a yellow background for Hufflepuff.  The trio sat down to eat.  What a magnificent spread it was.  The table was covered with all sorts of breakfast foods, scones, jam, porridge, eggs, kippers, oatmeal, butter cakes, biscuits, rashers, juice, milk, sausage…  Holly took a big helping of everything she could reach and began to eat enthusiastically.   
          Once Mark had had a few bites, he continued talking about what he knew concerning the other students in the hall.  Holly and Becky listened avidly.  “See that red headed girl on the end of the Gryffindor table?”  Both Becky and Holly nodded when they spotted the person he was pointing out.  “That’s Rose Weasley.  She’s a first year too.  I heard her dad was best friends with Harry Potter when they were at school.  He even helped Harry break out Gringotts.”  
          “Gringotts!” said Becky impressed.  “Wow!”  Then, “Why?”   
          “No one knows,” said Mark.  “But they had the big battle right afterwards.”  
          “What’s Gringotts?” asked Holly.  
          “Gringotts,” said Ben, “is the big wizard’s bank in Diagon Alley.”  Ben had been listening in to Mark’s commentary and now added his own bits of information.  “It’s supposed to be the safest place to store anything but I heard Harry Potter and his friends came flying out of Gringotts on a huge dragon, though where they found one is beyond me.”  He took a bite of food and then continued.  “See those two sitting across from Rose Weasley?  The smaller one that’s eating and the taller one with a cup in his hand?”   
          Holly and Becky looked across the table.  “Yes,” they answered nodding.  
          “Those are the Potter boys, James and Albus.  Albus is a first year like you three.”  Ben stopped to take a drink of juice.  “James has been here a few years.  I thought he would be rather stuck up seeing as his father is such a big hero and all, but he wasn’t like that at all.  Actually, he seemed pretty nice, for a Gryffindor.”   
          James looked up and over at the Hufflepuff table.  For a moment, his eyes seemed to meet Holly’s.  Holly looked at him with interest.  Her cousin.  He looked a lot like his father: tall and slender with brown hair, but no glasses.  Did he know they were related?  Then somebody at the Gryffindor table spoke and James looked away; his attention returned to his own circle of friends and family.   
          At this point, their meal was interrupted by hundreds of owls swooping into the great hall.  Big ones, little ones, white ones, grey ones… They flew down the tables dropping parcels and stopping in front of different students.  At first, Holly was afraid of all the birds, but no one else paid them any attention other than to look eagerly to see where they landed.  
          “What’s going on?” asked Holly as she watched the owls land around her.  
          “Morning mail,” replied Mark who was happily unrolling a note he had received from an owl.  He fed the owl a tidbit and it flew off.  “Look!” he exclaimed excitedly.  “It’s from my parents.  They miss me already!”  He folded the note and put it into his pocket.   
          “How do you send mail?” inquired Holly who suddenly remembered she had promised to write her parents.  
          “Same way,” said Ben.  “There is a rookery outside the castle where the owls stay.  Give them a note, tell them where to go and they’ll be off.”  Holly wondered what her parents would think of mail by owl.   
          They finished eating their breakfast.  Holly and Becky followed Marcy back up to the dorms.  Marcy told a Knock-Knock joke to get inside.  Holly made a mental note to find that Joke book so she could be prepared with a joke in case she had to come up here alone.  
          Marcy showed Holly how to use the quill and ink properly.  Even so, Holly’s copied notes were full of blotches and half the time she didn’t even understand what she was writing.  Holly placed an asterisk next to each homework assignment mentioned in her notes so she would be sure to find it later.  When she had finished and looked over her work, Holly gave a moan of despair realizing how much homework she had to get done this weekend and she still had no idea what she was doing.

 ********************

          Lunchtime was a welcome relief from all the writing she had been doing.  Holly returned the notes to Mark and happily joined Becky on the way down the stairs for lunch.  
          Holly didn’t see the Potters at the Gryffindor table during lunch.  Ben, sitting with them, focused their attention on the Slytherin table.  He pointed out which students would be best to avoid and wondered aloud who would be the worst of the lot amongst the First years.   
          “I heard there was a huge effort to get rid of the Slytherns altogether after the defeat of You-Know-Who,” chirped in Donna MacMillan suddenly.  She was a third year student who had joined the conversation.   
          “Yes,” agreed Gwen, “that’s what my mum said too.  Apparently almost everyone who had joined You-Know-Who came from the Slytherin House.”   
          “So what happened?” asked Holly looking over at the Slytherns.  They did look like a mean lot.   
          “Well,” continued Donna, “dad said that Harry Potter stood up for them.  Harry Potter said that _people_ joined You-Know-Who not _Houses_ and that two Slytherns in particular, at great personal risk, helped him to defeat You-Know-Who.  So in the end, the Slytherin House was kept.”  Donna took another bite.  “Mind you, I still think they’re a lot of bullies, but just think, if they had gotten rid of Slytherin, some of those bullies might have been sorted into _our_ House!”  Donna shivered.  “I'd really hate to have them living with us!”   
          “Isn’t that the truth.” agreed several of the other Hufflepuffs at the table. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used the Harry Potter books as the sole reference for the Harry Potter world in this story. Unlike the other three houses, the books mentioned nothing about the Hufflepuff dorms so I read and re-read all the references in the books about the various houses, Hufflepuffs in particular and then used my imagination. Much later, I learned that Ms. Rowlings had different ideas for the Hufflepuff House.


	5. Chapter 5

          After lunch Gwen stood.  “All right, then,” she said.  “Everyone interested in some wand work, follow me.”  Almost all the First Year students rose and followed her out into the courtyard.  Marcy had shown Holly how to carry her wand safely to lunch—in a pocket, point part down.  Holly carefully pulled out her wand and followed the rest.  
          Gwen had all the students line up in a row and sat them down on the grass.  Then she handed each of them a match.  “Now,” she began.  “Close your eyes and clear your brain of everything.  You are supposed to be turning this match into a needle.  Think of the shape of a needle.  Do you have it fixed in your mind?  Good.  Open your eyes, stare at the match and think about that needle.  When you are ready, Flick your wand like this.”  She gave her wand a twisting motion and the match in front of her reformed into a needle.  Soon, everyone was flicking their wands but not with much luck.  Gwen walked behind them adjusting wand positions and flicking motions.   
          “Look, I did it!” said Mark excitedly and sure enough his match had turned silvery and pointed.   
          “Good job,” said Gwen approvingly.  She handed Mark another match.  “Now, do it again.  You haven’t mastered a spell unless you can repeat it time and time again with the same results.”  So Mark tried again.  This time the match turned silver but still looked like a match.   
          By the end of the lesson everyone, even Holly, had managed to get at least some color to their match except Becky.  She flicked and flicked and flicked to no results.  While everyone else was congratulating himself or herself for noticeable improvement, Becky sat silently with tears streaming down her face.  Gwen reached down and took the wand from Becky’s trembling hands.  She frowned and handed it back to her.   
          “Give it a swish,” she instructed.  Becky obediently gave it a wide swish.  Immediately, the matches lying in front of the students, matches that had not turned into needles, exploded into fire with a loud _boom!_   Everyone jumped at the sound.  Almost simultaneously a second explosion came from Micky’s bag that had been lying next to him as several exploding snaps within went off unexpectedly causing the bag to fly into the air and setting it on fire.  Micky and the other students scrambled to put out the fire while Gwen examined the wand again, frowning.  She held it gingerly and gave it an experimental shake frowning even more.  “This isn’t right,” she murmured, puzzled.  “Where did you get this wand?”   
          “She got it from a street vendor,” piped up Mark.  “I told her she needs to get one from Ollivander’s if she wants her wand to work right.”   
          “We didn’t know about Ollivander,” wailed Becky.  “The man said we’d never find as good a wand for such a low price…  I’ll ask my dad—tell him to go back to Diagon Alley and get me an Ollivander wand.  It can get here by Monday or Tuesday maybe Wednesday at the latest…”  
          “That won’t work,” said Gwen.  “Ollivander wands match the person waving it.  You, not your dad, must actually hold the wands and wave them to find the right wand.”   
          “That’s what I told her,” said Mark.  “She’ll have to wait until the holidays to get a new wand.”  
          “I’ll flunk all my classes if I have to wait until then,” sobbed Becky.  “What’ll I do?”  
          “Let me take this wand to Professor Iverson,” said Gwen.  “Maybe we can think of something…”  With that, the group broke up.   
          Holly joined the others going back to the dorms.  She still had a lot of homework to catch up on.  She also had a letter to write, if she had time.  Becky curled up on a sofa next to Holly in the commons room and cried quietly.  Class had barely begun and already she was sure she’d fail.  
          Later on, Gwen returned from her talk with Professor Iverson.  “Well, it’s not as bad as it could be,” she began.  “Professor Iverson agrees that you should not be using this wand for class.  The only place for a replacement is Ollivanders, but, as I said before, he does not do owl order.  I’ve gotten permission for you to travel to London to get a new one.”  Becky perked up considerably at that.  “But,” continued Gwen.  “Permission from Professor Iverson does not get you to London.  You may go only if you are accompanied by one of the Hogwarts staff and you must get there and back without missing any of your classes.”  
          “How is that possible?” asked Mark.  “The train isn’t running and you can’t Apparate in or out of Hogwarts.  Brooms would take way too long and she’d never get there and back in time even if Becky knew how to fly one.”  
          “Not to mention finding a teacher to escort her to and from London,” said Marcy.  By now, everyone had heard Becky crying and knew her problem.  
          “One thing at a time,” said Ben.  “We’ve got permission.  Now we have to find a teacher, and a way.”  
          “Hagrid,” piped up Holly suddenly.   
          Everyone looked at her surprised.  “Huh?”   
          “Professor Hagrid,” repeated Holly.  “He’s got a motorbike with a side-chair.”  
          “He does?  How do you know?”  After all, Holly was a first year who had barely arrived.   
          “That’s how I got to Hogwarts,” Holly explained.  “We left Friday night and arrived early this morning.  You could leave one night, arrive in London in the morning, buy your wand and be back that same evening.”   
          “That would work,” said Gwen thoughtfully.  “You think he’d do it?”   
          “I don’t know,” replied Holly.  “But you can always ask.”  
          “You’ll have to ask,” said Ben looking over at Becky.  
          “Oh no!  I couldn’t ask him!” said Becky in a panic.  “He’s too big, too scary.  Could you?” she looked hopefully over at Gwen and Ben.  
          “Can’t,” they replied.  “We’ve got a prefect meeting tonight.”   
          “Besides,” continued Gwen, “it has to be you.  It’s your wand and your problem.  You have to fix it.  We got you the permission.  The rest is up to you.  You’d be way more convincing than either of us.”   
          Becky turned to Holly in a panic.  “Would you come with me?” she asked.  “You know him and about the motorcycle…”  
          Holly thought about it.  “Sure,” she replied.  “But I don’t really know how to get to his house.”  
          “Becky does,” put in Mark.  “It’s through that gate next to Herbology,” he reminded Becky.  “You were asking about it, remember.”   
          Becky reluctantly nodded.  So Holly found herself following Becky down the stairs, through the huge doors and down the path to Hagrid’s hut.  Along the way Becky described her first sight of Hagrid towering over the rest when they got off the train.  “He was so huge and fierce that I would’ve gotten right back on the train if there hadn’t been so many other people behind me that I could only move forward.  And then he got us into these tiny boats that glided ever so silently across this huge black lake and into a creepy dark tunnel that went under Hogwarts.  It was ever so scary!”   
          “That would be scary,” agreed Holly.  Then she thought back to her own experience with Hagrid and the fat braids sticking out.  “But I think he’s nice,” she added.   
          Hagrid apparently lived in a small hut on the edge of the forest.  It looked vaguely familiar to Holly the closer they got to it.  She recognized the small shed next to the hut as the one she had come out that very morning after their trip from London.  A small tendril of smoke trailed out of the chimney.   
          Becky and Holly walked up to the front door of the hut.  Becky took one look at some huge muddy boots placed outside next to a quiver of arrows and a large crossbow and froze.  “I can’t,” she whispered, trembling.  
          _“Oh for goodness sake,”_ thought Holly.  She stepped forward and boldly knocked on the door.  Immediately, a deep loud barking started from within the hut.   
          “Jes’ a minute,” called out a loud voice.  “Back, Fang, back!”   
          The door opened and Hagrid stepped into view.  Hagrid seemed much more scary than Holly remembered.  Twice as tall as either of them, Hagrid had dark shaggy hair and beard; he was wearing tangled furry clothes.  Hagrid’s face was stern and he looked much more an animal than person.  Then his face broke out into a broad smile.  “Well, hello there, Holly,” he said warmly.  “I didn’ ‘spect ta see ya so soon.  What brings yeh here?  Is everythin’ OK?”    
          “Just fine, sir,” replied Holly.  “This is my friend, Becky,” she continued turning to Becky who was visibly trembling and hiding a bit behind Holly.  “She has a favor to ask you…”  
          “Well, come on in and tell me about it.”  Hagrid backed up and gestured the two girls to come in.  Holly walked cautiously in with Becky following fearfully behind…  The room was dark, lit only by the fire in the hearth.  “Have a seat,” he invited pulling a stack of books off a big chair.  Both Holly and Becky fit together in the chair easily.   
          A huge grey dog had been hovering behind Hagrid.  The dog bounced forward jumping on the girls and licked them eagerly.  “Down, Fang, down!” commanded Hagrid pulling the dog off them.  “Don’t mind him,” he said, “Fang is more bark thin bite; he doesn’ get much company…  Would ya like sum tea?”  Hagrid inquired pulling out a huge pot.   
          “Um, yes, please,” replied Holly wiping dog slobber off her face.   
           "So,” began Hagrid, “Becky, is it?”  Becky nodded.  “Tell me what your problem is.”  
          “It’s my wand!!!” blurted Becky.  And she launched into the whole story of where they had gotten the wand and how it wouldn’t work right…  
          “That’s a right sorry story, Becky,” said Hagrid as he handed the girls each a huge mug full of hot water flavored, presumably, with tea, but looked and smelled suspiciously more like mud.  “But what’s it got ta do wid me?” he asked sitting down with his own mug.  
          “Well,” continued Becky, “Professor Iverson said I could go to London to get a new wand if I were escorted by somebody from Hogwarts and if I could be back so as I didn’t miss any school.  And, um, Holly was telling us how you got her to Hogwarts in a single night by motorbike and I was wondering,” Becky paused to collect her courage, “I was wondering if you could, maybe, take me to London to get a new wand?”  The last words came out in a rush.  
          Hagrid put his mug down on the table and sat back.  “Well, tha’s a pretty tall request ya have there,” he said thoughtfully.  “I’ll have ta do sum checkin’.  I’m not supposed ta ride the bike much myself but if ya need a new wand that bad… We might be able ta work som’thin’ out.”   
          Becky jumped out of the chair excitedly.  “Oh thank you!” she gushed.  
          “Mind ya, I can’t make no promises, though.”  Hagrid said gruffly.  “I’ll let ya know when I know som’thin’.”  
          “Thank you so much,” said Becky again and the two left Hagrid’s hut.  Becky fairly flew up the pathway back to the dorms in her excitement.  Holly had to run to keep up with her.

********************

          Holly saw her first ghosts that evening at dinner.  She had just put down a bowl of milk for her kitten, as yet unnamed, when this white transparent shape fairly shot out of the table in front of her.  Holly would have been very scared except by this time she had come to learn the unexpected was normal around Hogwarts.   
          The shape materialized into a very fat person dressed in monk’s clothing.  He had a round jolly face and looked right at Holly.  “So, are you the new Hufflepuff student?” he asked.     
          “Um, yes,” Holly replied.  “Who are you?”   
          “I’m the Friar,” he announced.  “I’m the Hufflepuff House Ghost.  Welcome!”  
          “Thank you,” said Holly.  The Friar drifted off and as Holly watched him leave, she saw other pearly white shapes materializing and floating around the hall mingling with other students.  No one seemed scared at all.  
          “I heard most of the ghosts are harmless,” commented Mark, besides her, “but we’ve got to watch out for Peeves, the Poltergeist; he likes to play tricks on everyone!”  
          “Oh,” said Holly.  And then added to herself, _“What’s a Poltergeist?”_ but decided to not ask.  She would probably find out soon enough.  
          Hagrid showed up as the group was finishing their desert.  He looked over at the Hufflepuff table, spotted Becky sitting next to Holly, and made his way over.  “Yer all set!” he said jubilantly. “We leave t’night right after dark!  Sorry ‘bout the short notice, but the moon’ll be too high next week ta go.”  
          “Tonight!” began Becky, “But—”  
          “She’ll be there,” cut in Mark quickly.  “What time and where?”   
          “My place,” answered Hagrid happily.  “Eight o’ clock!  Gotta go git ready.”  Hagrid walked out of the hall as quickly as he had arrived.  
          “What’d you say I’d be there for?” cried Becky to Mark in a panic.  “I can’t go tonight!  Dad hasn’t sent me the money yet.”  
          “You heard him, the moon will be too high later,” said Mark.  “If you don’t go now, it’ll be a whole month before you get another chance.”  Mark leaned over and talked to the rest of the students at the table.  “Hey, everyone, Becky is going to London tonight!  Do you think we can scrounge up enough money for a wand?”  There were several nods of assent.  
          “We can probably pull it off if we work together,” assured Gwen.   
          “Oh thank you,” said Becky gratefully.  “I’ll pay you all back as soon as my dad sends the money.”  Everyone left the table to go back to the dorms in search of wand money.  Everyone, that is, except Holly.  She had an appointment with Madam Pomfrey.

******************** 

          Marcy pointed out the infirmary to Holly on their way back from breakfast.  Given her many trips to and from the dorms Holly felt reasonably certain she could navigate there and back on her own, but she would have preferred company.   
          Madam Pomfrey was waiting for Holly in the infirmary.  “Come in, come in,” she encouraged when Holly arrived.  “Have a seat.  How are you feeling?” she asked after Holly sat down.  
          “Um, fine, I guess,” replied Holly.   
          “Are they your feelings?  Or someone else’s?”  
          Holly thought about that.  Sure, she was sad about Becky and her wand problems and happy when they appeared to be solved.  But were they _her_ feelings or Becky’s feelings?  “I don’t really know,” replied Holly honestly.  
          “That’s what we have to work on,” said Madam Pomfrey.  “Before you can block out other people’s feelings, you have to be able to tell which feelings are which.  Now, close your eyes.”  Holly closed them.  “Look into yourself.  Think about how you feel.”   
          Holly was silent thinking about her feelings.  “Ow!” she said suddenly rubbing her thumb.  “You poked me!”  Holly opened her eyes.  But it wasn’t _her_ thumb that had been poked.  Madam Pomfrey held the pin over her own thumb.   
          “See what I mean?  Get to know when it is _you_ that hurts or someone else.  Did you bring your kitten/"  Holly nodded and brought her kitten out of her pocket.  "Good.  Let’s try again.  Only this time, I want you to put your kitten on your lap.”  Holly did.  “Close your eyes again.  Can you hear her purr?”   
          “Yes,” said Holly stroking the kitten.   
          “Now focus on that purr; hear it, feel it.  Let nothing exist for you but that purr.”  Holly did.  “Now how does your thumb feel?”   
          Holly thought.  “It feels, different, like it is there, but distant sort of.”   
          “Good,” said Madam Pomfrey.  “Your kitten is surrounding you with all sorts of happy feelings and they are blocking feelings that are further away.”   
          “Really?”  Holly looked down with pleasure at her kitten.    
          “Keep your kitten with you at all times.  Even during class.  I’ll send a note to the other teachers telling them that the cat is part of your healing treatment,” instructed Madam Pomfrey.  “When you feel over whelmed with emotions, focus on your kitten and she’ll help you separate them out…  Let’s try again.  Close your eyes and focus on your kitten.”  Holly closed her eyes and stroked her kitten.  “Can you feel this?”  Madam Pomfrey asked.  
          “Yes,” said Holly with a smile.  “It’s on my, uh, your shoulder, but it's all distant.”  
          “And now?”  
          “Yes, that was on your leg.”  The kitten made everything bearable.   
          “How about now?”   
          “Hey, that hurt!” said Holly opening her eyes in surprise and rubbing her arm.   
          “It should have,” said Madam Pomfrey.  “That was you I poked, not me.  Learn to tell the difference.  Most of the students at Hogwarts are pretty healthy but they all have feelings.  Your homework this week is to try to recognize _your_ feelings from others’.  Once you identify feelings that are not your own, try and determine whose they are.  Come back Monday after dinner and we’ll see how you are doing."  
          Holly left the hospital feeling loads better.  For the first time she felt she could actually do something to untangle the emotions within. She got back to the dorms just as Becky, Mark and Ben were leaving to meet Hagrid.  
          “Wait for me,” shouted Holly.  She ran to her bed and returned with the heavy sweater she had gotten from Mrs. Potter.  “Take this,” Holly insisted.  “It gets a little cold along the way.”  Becky took the sweater gratefully.  Holly joined the group as they went downstairs.  Together, the Hufflepuffs had gathered ten gold Galleons rather, 8 Galleons and 58 Knuts, and 32 Sickles.  Mark, who had just gotten his wand this term, had assured Becky that it should be enough for a wand and a bit left over for meals.  
          On the way down, Mark told Holly that he had come along just to see the motorcycle.  “I’ve never actually seen one operating before,” he confided.  Ben, their prefect, came along as an escort.  Officially, students weren’t allowed on the grounds after dark.  “This time, we’re all out with actual permission,” continued Mark excitedly.   
          When they got outside the castle Ben held up his wand and said, _“Lumnos!”_    The wand tip immediately began to glow and give off a soft light.  Everyone continued down the path.   
_“Lumnos!”_ thought Holly to herself.  “That’s a useful spell.”  She waved her own wand and gave it a try.  _“Lumnos!”_   Her wand gave a small spark and died.  Holly continued to try to get her wand to light up stopping only when they reached Hagrid’s hut.   
          While Mark exclaimed excitedly over his first close-up look at a motorcycle, Holly found herself hugging a tearful Becky and whispering in her ear that everything would be all right and she might actually have “fun” on the trip.  All too soon, Hagrid lifted Becky into the chair and tucked her in.  In short time the motorcycle revved up and the two took off.   
          “Wow!” said Mark admiringly as they watched the motorcycle headlamp shrink in the distance.  “I didn’t know motorcycles could fly.”   
          Holly looked at him and laughed.  “They can’t,” she replied.  Then she looked up in the sky at the motorcycle, which was rapidly vanishing in the distance and added, “Not normally.”

 ********************

                  _Dear Mum and Dad,_

_How are you?  I am fine.  I have arrived safely at Hogwarts._

          It was Sunday morning and Mark was sending a letter to his family so Holly decided to write one to her parents too.  Mark promised to take Holly along with him when he sent his letter and show Holly how to send hers.

              _Hogwarts is a very large school.  It has one hundred forty two_  
_staircases and no elevators!  I am getting a lot of exercise._  
_The food here is very good._

          Positively wonderful to be more accurate, but Holly didn’t know how to spell that.

                  _I start my classes on Monday.  Most of the people I have met_  
_so far have been very nice._

          The Slytherins definitely did not fit into the “nice” category.  A couple of Slytherin students, one wearing a prefect badge had accosted them upon their return from Hagrid’s.   
          The main door had just closed when an accusatory voice shouted out, “Hey, Harris, what are you doing outside after hours?”  The speaker, a tall thin boy with sandy colored hair and hazel eyes wearing Slytherin colors advanced challenging Ben with his wand extended.  “And with a couple of First years no less,” he added disgustedly looking over Mark and Holly.  
          “It’s none of your business, Richards,” retorted Ben pointing his own wand at the prefect.  
          “But it is,” disagreed Richards moving closer.  “I’m a Prefect now, and it looks to me like you are breaking the rules.”  Richards moved even closer; the two extended wands were practically touching.    
          “We have permission to be out tonight.”   
          “Yeah, right.  What for?”   
          “That is Hufflepuff business and definitely not yours,” replied Ben, not backing down.  The two faced off aggressively until a new voice broke the silence.  
          “Oh, let them go, Tom.”  The speaker was a pale slender girl with long straight black hair.  She moved forward and gently pulled down Tom’s wand.  She looked at the three with contempt.  “They’re Hufflepuffs, not Gryffindors; they probably _do_ have permission.  We have better things to do with our time.”  Tom let the girl lead him off.  “We find you out again like this and I will be reporting you,” he threatened.  The two moved out of the entryway and down another hall.   
          Ben put away his own wand with relief.  “Becky did have permission to go,” he confirmed.  “But I am not sure that permission was meant for us or tonight.  I’m glad we didn’t have to find out for sure.  Come along,” he said to Holly and Mark, “we need to get going.”

                    _Guess what!  I have a new pet.  It is a beautiful kitten.  I_  
_have always wanted one.  She has long silky grey fur,_  
_white paws and  a white chest.  She is very friendly._  
_I named her Sasha.  She doesn’t make me sneeze at all!_  
_I hope you don’t mind._  
_Today I am going to watch the tryouts for some sport called_  
_Quidditch.  It is supposed to be something like soccer._

          “Holly?  Are you ready?”  Mark shouted.   
          “Just a minute,” replied Holly, looking over her letter one last time.

    _I miss you both a whole bunch.  Please write._  
_Love, Holly_

          Holly rolled up her letter and hurried to join Mark.  On the way to the Owlery Mark kept up a running chatter about Quidditch, his favorite sport.  He knew quite a lot about it.  His parents had gotten him the latest _Quidditch through the Ages_ book.  It even had a chapter on Quidditch at Hogwarts.   
          “Did you know,” said Mark enthusiastically, “that Harry Potter played Quidditch?”  Holly made noncommittal noises.  Of course she didn’t know that; she didn’t even know what Quidditch was!  “He was the youngest seeker ever playing at age 11!”  Mark continued.  “First years aren’t even supposed to own brooms but Harry Potter was so good that they made an exception in his case!  Can you imagine that!  The book says he caught his first snitch with his mouth!!!  I sure wish I could have seen that!”  
          “Me too!” agreed Holly wholeheartedly.  Then maybe she would see why everyone was all excited about Quidditch.  Whatever was a _snitch_ anyway?  
          Holly selected the nicest, friendliest looking owl she could find in the Owlery to use to send her letter.  She wasn’t sure how her parents would react to owl mail.  She seriously doubted they would write back if it had to be by owl.  She was sad about that.

 ********************

          Quidditch tryouts were terribly exciting.  Holly had never seen anyone actually fly around on a broomstick, let alone chase balls in the air.  Mark tried to explain the rules while they watched but Holly didn’t really listen.  She could feel the player’s exhilaration as they swooped around and it was as if she were flying too.  She couldn’t wait until she could watch a real game!  
          Holly spent the rest of the day hanging around the Hufflepuff common room.  She looked over her books getting ready for class.  She chatted with people in the portraits; some of them were quite interesting telling jokes and stories; others just wanted to be left alone.  The Hufflepuff library had all sorts of strange books; some screeched and screamed just by pulling them out, others talked to her when opened.   
          Also inside the Hufflepuff library was a huge championship cup.  Holly read the inscription curiously.  It said TRIWIZARD CUP.  Engraved beneath was the name CEDRIC DIGGORY.  The cup was beautiful: shiny silver with all sorts of raised flowers on it.  In front of the cup was a rosebud shaped candleholder containing a single flame that burned brightly.  Above the cup was a photo.  It was a wizard photo showing a young man waving happily and then turning to walk behind a hedge…   
          “He looks handsome, doesn’t he?” said Susan Breysburry.  She was carrying a picture book titled _Common Insects of Great Britain_ that she had found in the house library.  Holly nodded.  “It was my mum’s first year at Hogwarts when they held the Triwizard Cup,” continued Susan tucking the insect book under her arm.  “I found Diggory badges among mum’s Hogwarts stuff.  Mum said he was so nice, so handsome and brave.  She was very proud when he was selected as Hogwart’s Triwizard champion.  He was the best of the best.”  
          “What happened?”   
          “He died,” Susan said simply.  “He had barely won the cup when he died.”  
          “How?” asked Holly curiously.   
          “They say You-Know-Who did it,” answered Susan.   
          “You-Know-Who?  But why?”  
          “Because he was there,” said Susan.  “Because he was in the way.”    
          Holly shivered.  Hearing about You-Know-Who was one thing; seeing one of his victims up close was sobering.  She looked at the picture of the smiling Cedric.  To have been killed for no reason at all—that was really awful.

 ********************

          Becky hadn’t arrived by dinnertime; she wasn’t back by the time Holly pulled up her covers to sleep that night.  Holly was a bit worried but she was sure Hagrid would get Becky back in time for class the next day.  The last thing Holly remembered was the loud calming purr of her kitten, curled up near her head, as she fell fast asleep.

 ********************

          “Holly!  Holly, wake up!”  Holly felt someone shake her shoulder urgently.  She stirred and tried to snuggle back under her covers.  “Holly!  Oh do wake up!  I’m back!!!”  
          Holly opened her eyes and saw a fuzzy pair of brown eyes staring intently into hers.   
          “Oh good!  You’re awake!” said the face that went with the eyes.   
          Blearily Holly realized it was Becky shaking her awake.  “Becky,” she said, half awake, “you’re back!”   
          “That’s what I’ve been telling you!” said Becky impatiently.  “I’m back and look-it!” she waved a new wand excitedly in front of her.  “Ash and unicorn hair!!!  Isn’t it beautiful?”   
          Holly rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.  “Uh yes, I guess.”   
          Becky gave her new wand a flourish and danced around the room.  In response the wand gave off a gentle stream of sparks.  “It’s just wonderful!” she gushed.  “Oh, I just knew that other wand wasn’t right.  I just never realized how _not_ right!!!  Mr. Ollivander took one look at the wand I was carrying and practically grabbed it out of my hand.  He kept on muttering Bell-a-tricks, or something like that, and definitely agreed it was no wand for a student.  And then we found this one!  And I owe it all to you!”  She wrapped Holly into the biggest warmest hug Holly had ever had (except from her parents.)  
          “You’re the best friend ever!  Thank you so much.”  Becky glanced over to her bed.  “Oh, I’ve brought you a present.”  She pulled off a small box that had been lying there and handed it to Holly.  Holly opened it.  Inside was a small silver bracelet with a single charm dangling.  “It’s a charm bracelet,” explained Becky.  “For good luck.  You put charms on it that mean something to you.  I’ve got you your first charm.  Holly examined the charm; it glinted in the morning light.  She could barely make out an animal of some sort.  “It’s a badger,” said Becky.  “That’s the Hufflepuff crest.”   
          Holly looked at the tiny animal carefully.  A gift from a friend, a real friend.  She hadn’t had a real friend since, since Jessica.  She hadn’t dared.  A warm feeling spread though out Holly’s body.  “Thank you,” said Holly.  “Thank you very much.”  And she hugged Becky back.  “Uh, Becky?”   
          “Yes?”   
          “What time is it?”  
          “I don’t know; morning!  Time for school I think!  Maybe we had better get ready for class.  Come on!  I can’t wait to show the others my new wand!”  Becky dug into her dresser for some clothes for the day.  “You want to wear your robes too,” she added while swiftly dressing.  “Hurry up!”    
          Holly sighed and dragged herself out of bed.  Reluctantly she dressed pulling a black school robe over everything.  Becky had already begun undoing her braids.  “Can you help me with my hair?” she asked brushing it out quickly.  Becky parted her hair again and Holly started braiding one side while Becky did the other.  When they had finished, Holly brushed out her own blonde hair and stared glumly at her school supplies.  This was _not_ a day she was looking forward to.  It was her first day of class, not her sixth like everyone else.  She would be facing all the teachers and classmates for the first time.  
          Becky, sensing her reluctance, leaned over and whispered, “Don’t worry.  It’ll be O.K.; I’ll be there with you.  We’ll all be there.  All us First years have class together so you won’t be alone.”  
          The common room had a huge box of Bertie Bott treat assortment sitting on a table placed in front of the fireplace.  There were cauldron cakes, pumpkin pasties, Every Flavor beans, chocolate frogs, licorice spiders, strawberry tarts treacle pies and all sorts of other sweets.  Above the box floated the words “THANK YOU” in big pink letters made of smoke.   
          “I got the pink letters from Weasleys Joke shop,” said Becky proudly.  “They are actually made of smoke and float away after a day.  Aren’t they nice?”  
          Mark joined the two as they walked down to breakfast.  Holly, with Sasha on her shoulder, was carrying her cauldron and all her basic potion ingredients along with her basic school supplies so she wouldn’t have to make a second trip back to her room before class.  Her first class was Potions, down in the dungeon.  
          “So,” said Mark, “how was riding a motorcycle?”   
          “Wonderful!” replied Becky excitedly.  She turned and punched Holly gently in the arm.  “You didn’t tell me that it flew!”   
          Holly smiled.  “I figured by the time you found out it would be too late to back out.”   
          “That’s true,” agreed Becky, “I would have jumped right out when I realized the bike was going up in the air except we were too high up and I was afraid of hurting myself.  After a while, it got really fun, though.  Too bad I couldn’t see much because it was night.”   
          “So what took you so long?” asked Mark.  “We figured you’d be back by dinner or so.”   
          “Well, we couldn’t leave until after dark,” explained Becky.  “Motorcycles aren’t supposed to fly, you know.”  
          “What’d you do all day?” asked Holly curiously.   
          “First off,” began Becky, “we landed right as the merchants were taking out all their wares.  Hagrid marched me straight down to Olivander’s for my wand.  Mr. Olivander practically grabbed my wand out of my hand as soon as he saw it.  He kept on muttering how it was criminal for a street vendor to sell a wand like that to a student!  Look at my new one.”  Becky drew out her new one proudly.  “Ash and unicorn hair.  Isn’t it a beauty?”   
          “Yeah,” said Mark admiring.   
          “So what else did you do?” asked Holly.   
          “After I got my wand, we went over to the Leaky Cauldron.  It looked like a dirty old pub, but actually, it’s an inn and serves food and everything.  We got breakfast there.  They had the best ham and eggs ever!   
          Then Hagrid took me over to the Wizard Film Theater.  They were showing the latest Quidditch World Cup.  I’ve never seen a quidditch match before.  It was awesome!  Wizard Theater is nothing like regular stuff; it’s way better that 3D.”  Becky told Holly.  “It’s like you’re actually at the match!  We had seats and cheered with the rest of the crowd!  We ate self-popping popcorn that popped and buttered itself right in front of us and the hot dogs we ordered flew out of the vendor’s hand into ours!  The Quidditch players zoomed around us and over us wherever the balls took them.  I could feel the wind as they passed by!  I don’t know how they managed to stay on those skinny broomsticks!  It was a terrific game!" Becky continued. "Except when that kid sitting next to us ate too much and barfed all over me…  And then some guy above spilled his self popping popcorn over us and it kept on popping…  But otherwise it was fantastic!!!”  
          “So who won the game?” asked Mark.   
          “I don’t know!" replied Becky without interest.  "The players wearing the orange cloaks, I think.  At least the crowd went wild when that guy caught that tiny ball—I didn’t even see it!”  
          “They play quidditch at Hogwarts, too,” said Holly.   
          “Do they?” said Becky excitedly.  “Terrific!  I can’t wait to watch a game!  Anyway, the game took pretty much the whole day...  By the way, Hagrid’s invited us over for tea Thursday after Broomstick flying practice to find out how my new wand is working.  I said, “yes” for both of us.  I hope you don’t mind.  Hagrid looks really scary, but he’s awfully nice."    
          Becky paused to take a breath.  Then she continued her narrative. "When the game was over, we stopped at Bertie Botts Candy Store for a while.  Hagrid treated me to some ice cream there.  I had Rocky Road ice cream.”  Becky lowered her voice so no one else could overhear her.  “Don’t _ever_ order Rocky Road ice cream!  I think they put real rocks in it and the brown stuff smelled a lot like dirt and asphalt!  Hagrid finished mine after I told him I was too full of popcorn to eat it.  He really liked it.”  Becky raised her voice again and continued her story.   
          “Next, we stopped by Weasley’s Joke shop to look around.  By the time we got out the sun had gone down and people were closing up their shops.  So we went back to the Leaky Cauldron to have dinner while we waited for it to get dark.  It was positively the best day ever!”   
By then the three had reached the Great Hall.  They entered and sat down at the Hufflepuff table for breakfast. 

 


	6. Chapter 6

          Laurel Wycliff was putting away the last of the breakfast dishes when a knock came on the door.  Laurel hastily tucked her brown hair beneath a kerchief while she went to the door.  When she opened it, she recognized the tall person standing in front of the doorway.  This time, he had a small spotted brown owl perched on his shoulder.   
          “Uh, Mr. Potter, Harry,” said Laurel, flustered.   
          “Hello, Mrs. Wycliff,” said Mr. Potter politely.   
          “Um, you just missed Dillon, he’s already left for the office.”  
          “Actually, Mrs. Wycliff, I came to see you,” said Mr. Potter quietly.  “May I come in?”  
          “I, uh, guess so.  Please come in.”  Laurel backed away from the entrance and permitted Mr. Potter to enter.  “Have a seat.  Would you like some tea?”  
          “Please,” said Mr. Potter as he sat down.  The tiny owl looked around with interest but did not leave Mr. Potter’s shoulder.  “I wanted to let you know,” began Mr. Potter while Laurel bustled around the kitchen, “that Holly arrived at Hogwarts safely and should be beginning class today.”  
          “Thank you,” said Laurel bringing in the tea and a plate of biscuits.  Fortunately, the water was already hot.  
          “Also,” he added while she poured the tea, “I’m afraid I got Holly a kitten.  I hope this is O.K.,” he added quickly.  “You see Hogwarts encourages the ownership of pets among the students.  It helps them learn responsibility.  And Holly was so happy.  If having a cat will create problems for her here, we would be happy to keep the cat at our house during the holidays and vacation.”  
          “No,” said Laurel sitting down across from Mr. Potter after she finished serving the tea, “I don’t think a cat will be a problem.  Holly has always wanted a pet.”   
          Mr. Potter smiled.  “That’s good to know,” he said.  “It’s a really cute kitten.”  
          “Is there anything else, Mr. Potter?”  
          “Actually, there is.”   
          _“Ah,”_ thought Laurel, _“the real purpose of the visit.”_  
          “You asked,” Mr. Potter began while giving the owl a piece of his biscuit.  He looked perfectly at ease with an owl perched on his shoulder.  “That I make it possible for you to contact us and Hogwarts.  Unfortunately, we do not have a telephone nor do we have a postal address so I had to come up with another way for you to contact us.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out two small identical turquoise colored books.  They looked like something purchased out of a stationary shop.  Each bore the word ADDRESS in purple.  A small purple glass chip in the shape of a diamond ornamented each book.    
          “This is for you,” he said handing one of the books to Laurel.  “Open it, please.”  Laurel did so.  The purple lined pages were blank.  It looked very ordinary.  “Have you a pen or pencil you can use to write?”  Laurel fetched a pen and looked questioningly at Mr. Potter.  “Please, write something in the book,” he stated.  Laurel hesitated, thinking, and then wrote her name, _Laurel Lynn Wycliff_ in the book.  “Now,” instructed Mr. Potter, “close the book.”  Laurel did so.  Immediately the other book, the one she had _not_ written in began to beep softly and its purple glass chip lit up.   
          _“That's odd,”_ thought Laurel looking at it curiously.   
          “Please open the second book,” instructed Mr. Potter.  Laurel did so and the beeping stopped.  Inside the second book Laurel saw the words _Laurel Lynn Wycliff,_ written in her own handwriting!  “This is the book I shall have at my house,” explained Mr. Potter gently removing the book which had beeped from her hands.  “May I?” he asked taking her pen as well.  Mr. Potter wrote some words in this book (the book that had beeped) and closed it.  Immediately, the glass chip in the first book lit up but there was no sound.  “That is the book you will keep,” continued Mr. Potter.  “Please, open it again.”  Laurel did.  Her name had vanished and in its place were the words: _My name is Harry Potter._    
          “If you wish to contact me or my family, all you have to do is write in your book.  The light and the sound will go off alerting us that you have written.  My wife or I will read the message and get back to you.  Your book does not beep as you will be expecting and looking for a response.  When you see the book light up.  You will know we have responded.  The words vanish after the book is closed so whatever you have written remains private.”  Mr. Potter sat back.  “Now you have a way to contact us.”   
          Laurel took the book and looked at it thoughtfully.  “Thank you,” she said softly.  “That was very considerate.”   
          Mr. Potter nodded.  “Unfortunately,” he continued, “Hogwarts is pretty rigid about contact methods and if you wish to contact anyone at the school, you will have to use an owl.  You can always ask us to send you an owl for this purpose and it would be no difficulty to send you one.  I brought this one here in case you wished to write a note to Holly.”   
          _“Owls!”_ thought Laurel.  She had always known that Dillon had little liking for birds but Dillon practically jumped out of his skin when he saw that tiny fluffy little owl waiting for them after they dropped Vernon at his school.  Dillon seemed afraid to touch it and Laurel had to remove the note attached to the owl’s leg.  The owl flew off into the night before she had unrolled the message.  They were both glad to hear from Holly, though.  Hogwarts hadn’t sounded too different from other schools at all.  Laurel cleared her throat.  “How, do I use one?” she asked hesitantly.   
          “It’s very easy,” replied Mr. Potter.  “Have you a piece of paper?”  Laurel fetched one.  “Write your message on the paper.  Take your time.  I am in no hurry.”    
          Laurel thought.  She hadn’t actually planned on sending a message, but since he was waiting…  So she scribbled a quick note to Holly and looked up.  “Now what?”   
          “Fold your letter and roll it small.  Rolling it around a pencil should work.”  So Laurel rolled her letter.  “Write Holly’s full name on the outside and, tie your letter to the strings hanging from the owl’s leg.  Tie it tight.”  Mr. Potter held out the owl on his hand so Laurel could reach the strings.  
          “Won’t it fall out?” asked Laurel as she tied the strings.  
          “It never has," Mr. Potter assured her.  "Now, tell the owl where you want her to take your letter.  Make sure you use Holly’s full name as there may be other Hollys at the school.”  He held the tiny owl up to Laurel’s face.  
          “I feel stupid talking to an owl,” said Laurel self-consciously.  “Does it really understand me?”   
          Mr. Potter smiled. “Owl’s are very smart,” he replied.   
          Laurel took a deep breath and looked into the owl’s eyes.  “Take this letter to Holly Wycliff at Hogwarts,” she said.  The owl turned stretched out its wings and flew out the open door.  (How had the door gotten open?)  “How does it know who Holly is?” she asked as she watched it fly out of sight.  
          “Honestly?  I have no idea.  But tomorrow morning, at breakfast, that owl will fly in, find Holly, and drop off your message.  They never miss,” he replied.  
          “Are all the owls so small?” inquired Laurel.  
          _“All the owls?”_ thought Harry.  So Holly _had_ written.  Good for her!  “Actually,” he replied out loud to answer Laurel’s question.  “Owls come in all sizes.  I had a lovely snowy owl for some time.  The person sending the message picks the owl.  If Holly should write and you wish to write back,” continued Harry, “ask the owl to stay because you have a reply.  The owl will wait for your message and then take it back.  If there is nothing else, I won’t take any more of your time.”  Mr. Potter stood to leave.  
          “Actually, Mr. Potter, there is.”  Mr. Potter stopped and looked at Laurel.  He said nothing but waited for her to continue.  Laurel took a deep breath.  “I want to know more about you,” she said.  
          “Me?” said Mr. Potter in surprise while sitting back down.  “There is not much to say.  I have a wife and three lovely children, two of which are currently attending Hogwarts.”  
          “What are their names?”  
          “My wife’s name is Ginny,” replied Mr. Potter.  “Then there’s James and Albus; they’re at Hogwarts.  My youngest is named Lily.  She’s 9 years old,” Mr. Potter finished smiling at the thought.  
          “Where do you live?”  
          “In London,” said Mr. Potter.  “It’s a fairly large house I inherited from my Godfather,” he added.  
          “You grew up with Dillon?”  
          “Yes ma’am.  My parents died when I was one; I lived with my aunt and uncle, Dillon’s parents, and Dillon until I was seventeen.”  
          “And you don’t like each other.”  
          Mr. Potter was silent for a moment before answering.  “No, not really,” he admitted quietly.  
          “May I ask why?”  
          Mr. Potter was silent for an even longer time.  Finally, he spoke.  “You obviously love your husband, Mrs. Wycliff, and he loves you.  His parents are your in-laws.  Dillon’s family sheltered me when I needed it.  I will not speak ill of them to you.”  
          Laurel nodded.  It had been unfair of her to ask that.  “And you are a wizard?” asked Laurel changing the subject.  
          “That goes without saying, ma’am.  You already know that.”  
          “Why?”   
          “Why what?”  
          “Why isn’t it said?” demanded Laurel.  “Why didn’t I know?”   
          “Wizards and witches have a bad reputation, ma’am,” replied Harry calmly.  “They’ve been hunted in the past.  When dealing with non-wizards, it is always best to be ... discrete.”  
          “But among your own family?” persisted Laurel.  “When I asked Dillon about you he claimed he knew nothing but that you were a wizard.  And when I suggested we ask his parents, Dillon went into a panic and begged that we not mention any of this to them!”  
          “If Dillon suggests you not mention this to his parents, by all means you should listen to him.”  Laurel waited for further explanation.  Harry paused, as if choosing his words carefully.  “Dillon probably knows very little about wizards and such," he finally said.  "Dillon’s parents were very angry when I decided to attend Hogwarts.  It kept the peace best if I said nothing about Hogwarts or wizards when I stayed with them.”  
          “Oh,” said Laurel.  “And this Voldemort stuff?”  
          “That is long over,” said Mr. Potter simply.  “To talk about it brings me nothing but bad memories.  I truly regret any of it spilled over into your life.  Now,” he said standing up, “I really must be going so if you’ll excuse me.”  Mr. Potter bowed slightly and walked to the door.  
          “Yes, of course,” said Laurel picking up the now empty cups and dishes.  She had hundreds more questions but recognized that Mr. Potter would probably say nothing further.  “Thank you for coming.”  
          “If you are curious about Hogwarts,” Mr. Potter added when he reached the entryway, “you can always ask Holly when she comes home for the holidays.  I’m sure she’ll be happy to answer you.  Good day, Mrs. Wycliff.”  
          “Good day.  Mr. Potter,” replied Laurel.  And Mr. Potter left as silently as he had arrived.

 ********************

          Holly, Becky and Mark left breakfast early to go to their Potions class.  Holly wanted to get there and settled before everyone else arrived.  She hated that new person stare and how students would watch every move when a new student arrived.  The Potions class was somewhere down in the dungeons.   
          Mark led the way and it was Becky who whispered encouraging words to Holly as they walked.  “Professor Slughorn really knows his potions," she told Holly.  "We spent last week looking at all sorts of plants, both dried and fresh, learning to recognize each one and it’s qualities.”   
          Holly nodded; she had gathered that much from copying of Mark’s notes.  Mark had included all sorts of sketches and descriptions of each plant studied along with several more he had gotten out of their book, _Magical Drafts and Potions_.   
          “Prefect Gwen says he likes to give a quiz the second week to see how much we remembered so we’ll probably get a quiz today.  You’re lucky,” continued Becky.  “You’ll probably be excused from the quiz since you weren’t here last week.  Afterwards we’ll get to mix actual potions.”  They reached the potions room, opened the door and stepped inside.  
          Professor Slughorn was an extremely short, old, fat, bald man with a walrus mustache.  He wore burgundy red velvet robes and sat in a pink puffy comfortable looking chair behind his desk.  He looked up at their arrival.  Almost immediately, Professor Slughorn’s face broke into a smile of immense pleasure.  “Lily!” he said in delight looking at Holly.   
          Holly looked around in case someone else had entered the room.  Seeing no one, she spoke.  “Uh, no, sir,” she corrected.  “My name is Holly, Holly Wycliff.  I’m new…”  
          Professor Slughorn did a double take and looked at Holly again.  “But you look so much like—” he began.  “No, of course not.  That was years ago...  And you’re in Hufflepuff, not Gryffindor.  My apologies.”  He shuffled thorough his papers.  “Holly, uh, yes.  I received a note about you from Professor Iverson and one from Madam Pomfrey.”    
          He looked up again at Holly.  “Welcome to my class, Miss Wycliff.  Miss, uh, Smith and Mr. Owens, why don’t you show Miss Wycliff where to place her things.  Then you may take a seat over on the right.  Professor Slughorn continued to watch Holly with dreamy thoughtful look on his face while the three put her supplies away.  Holly wondered who "Lily" was.  
          Holly was seated at her desk, deep in reviewing Mark’s notes when the Ravenclaw students walked in.  Holly could tell they had entered without even looking up or hearing a thing.  She could feel their arrival by the change of emotions in the room.  With Sasha curled up on her lap purring happily Holly had felt a cocoon of contentment surrounding her.  Beyond that cocoon had been the dull roar of the generally cheerful feelings of Mark, Becky and the other Hufflepuff students that had arrived.  The Ravenclaw students walked in oozing confidence.   
          Holly noticed the difference immediately.  _“How odd,”_ she thought.  No wonder school always had given her a mixed jumble of emotions every day.  Holly had known about feeling other people’s pain, of course, but had never realized she had been feeling other people’s _emotions_ as well.  She filed that information away for future reference and concentrated on class instruction, instead.   
          True to the predictions of Prefect Gwen, Professor Slughorn started class with a quiz.  “Every tray of plants is different,” he announced.  “So don’t bother looking at your neighbor’s work.  Use the paper provided, please.”  He passed out a tray of plant samples to each student.  “Tell me what you know about the plants on your tray.  Let’s see which of you are serious about potions.”  He stopped in front of Holly and handed her a tray of samples.  “I don’t expect you to score well, Miss Wycliff, but why don’t you give it a try anyway.  You may use your text, if you wish.”   
          Holly nodded and bent to look at the plants in the tray.  There were only four plants in the tray and to Holly’s immense surprise, the plants matched perfectly with some Mark had written about.  Having just reviewed her notes, she began writing quickly before she forgot what she had read.  She never bothered to pull out her text before the professor called for their papers.   
          Next came the practical portion: mixing actual potions.  Holly left her seat and Sasha while she went to get her supplies.  Scarcely had she gone two steps from her seat when she suddenly felt overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions.  Nothing bad, but the surprise of it caused Holly to fumble and bump into one of the Ravenclaw students already carrying her supplies.  The supplies spilled with a clatter all over the floor.   
          “I’m so very sorry,” mumbled Holly, still distracted by all the emotions surrounding her.  She bent to help the girl pick up the supplies.   
          The girl had hazel colored eyes and thick curly shoulder length red brown hair that was parted down the middle and pinned back on each side with blue bows.  “Thanks,” the girl replied while collecting her things.  Holly handed the girl the rest of her fallen supplies and then hurried to get her own.    
          Potion making looked a lot like cooking.  Holly had helped her mum cook a lot.  Cooking required precise measurements and following directions carefully.  Their first potion was supposed to be a remedy for headaches.  Holly read everything carefully before beginning.  Then she followed the directions as precisely as possible though she did wonder what difference it made to stir three and one half times verses two or four times.  When their time had ended.  Holly carefully bottled up her potion and turned it in.  She was pleased to note some of the other potions had similar silver grey colors.   
          Professor Slughorn reviewed all the student potions critically.  He sorted them by color.  “These,” he said, pointing to a few bottles containing muddy purple liquids, “are obviously contaminated.  You added either too much of one or more ingredients or your cauldron was dirty and other ingredients got mixed in that shouldn’t be there.  Make sure you clean your cauldrons well before each potion you make and measure carefully.  Two and two-thirds dragonfly wings is not the same as two and one-half wings.  
          These potions,” he continued gesturing to a variety of bottles containing various milky colored liquids, “are no good either.  They were stirred way too long.  You need to follow directions more carefully,” he admonished.  
          “These flasks with silver colored potions,” he said with a pleased voice pointing to a small group of bottles remaining, “would probably be successful headache remedies once they were cured properly.  One House point per person for the students who mixed these.”  Holly flushed with pleasure at the praise though she wasn’t sure what a House Point was.   
          Next came clean up.  Taking the Professor’s comments about contamination to heart, Holly scrubbed her cauldron especially well.  The Ravenclaw girl that Holly had bumped into earlier came up next to her and began carefully cleaning her cauldron as well.  “Good job on the potion,” she congratulated Holly.   
          “Thanks,” said Holly.  She was ashamed to admit she had no idea to whom the other silvery grey potions belonged.   
          “I’m Leila, Leila Pilkington,” the girl continued as they worked.   
          “Holly Wycliff,” replied Holly.   
          “You’re new,” Leila announced.  “You came here Saturday morning.”   
          “Yes,” acknowledged Holly wiping her cauldron dry.  Leila was incredibly observant.  Holly hadn’t noticed Leila amongst all the other students eating breakfast that morning.  
          “Why were you late?”  Leila asked bluntly.   
          “I was sick,” said Holly simply.  Then she added.  “My parents are Muggles.”  Having Muggle parents seemed to explain everything unusual around here and it worked for Leila too.  
          “Oh,” said Leila wiping her cauldron dry and putting it on the shelf.  “Well, welcome to Hogwarts.”   
          “Thanks,” said Holly putting her own cauldron away.  Then she hurried to join Mark and Becky.  
          “Hey, how’d you two both manage to get the potion right?” asked Mark.  His own potion had turned a muddy white.  
          “We followed the directions, of course,” said Becky.  “I told you you were stirring too long.”   
          “But it wasn’t thoroughly mixed yet,” protested Mark.  
          “Making potions is a lot like cooking,” agreed Holly.  “You’ve got to follow the directions exactly if you want it to come out right.  Don’t you cook?”  
          “Um, no,” admitted Mark, “the house-elves do it.”    
          “Oh,” said Holly.  “Well, I’d have never gotten through the quiz without your notes.  You take terrific notes.”  Her own attempt at taking notes today looked blotchy and unreadable.  
          “Thanks, just wish I could remember them after I write them,” said Mark.  “I can’t remember a thing when it comes to quizzes and tests.”  
          “Tell you what,” suggested Holly.  “We’ll help you with mixing potions and studying and you share your notes with us.  Deal?”  
          “Deal.”

 ********************

          Charms class came next.  Professor Flitwick sat on his desk cross-legged with his eyes and wand pointed at the ceiling.  He greeted the early arrival of Holly, Mark and Becky with barely a glance merely directing them to their seats.  Then he returned his attention to the ceiling.   
          Holly looked up and saw all sorts of colored balls floating in the air moving gently about.  Some of the balls sparkled and shined.  Others gave off sparks.  Every imaginable color of ball swirled around.  Watching carefully, Holly noticed the balls swirled to make intricate shapes and patterns in the air.  Professor Flitwick pointed his wand at a ball floating in the air.  That ball would move striking other balls.  As the balls were struck, they vanished with a soft “pop.”  The remaining balls swirled faster and faster forming new patterns.  The Professor kept hitting balls until only the last ball remained.  It moved like a blaze of light racing across the ceiling.  With careful aiming, this ball, too, was struck.  It vanished along with the striking ball.  The Professor lowered his wand and pulled out some papers which he began reading.   
          Holly was settled with Sasha on her lap and deep into reviewing Mark’s notes when the Slytherin students walked in.  As with the Ravenclaws, the emotional feeling of the room changed with their arrival.  This time, however, the group emanated disdain and contempt.  They barely glanced at the Hufflepuff students already seated and ignored them as they sat.   
          Then Professor Flitwick stood on the desk to lecture.  He was so short standing on the desk was probably the only way he could see all the students.  He had a high-pitched voice that matched his small size.  
          Wand practice in charms was fairly simple: make a cube move across the table using the wand.  That sounded easy but one had to concentrate, flick the wand just so and say the proper words with the correct inflection.  Becky was the first of the Hufflepuffs to get her cube to move.  She flushed with pleasure smiling at her new wand that had made it possible.  Several other students met with success also.  Holly stood, intent on making her wand work.  Sasha jumped up onto her shoulder and happily continued purring in her ear.  So used to Sasha by now, Holly hadn’t even noticed the move.  
          “Hey!” shouted a Slytherin voice.  “She’s got a cat on her shoulder!”  All eyes turned to Holly and Sasha.  
          “Mr. Richards,” squeaked Professor Flitwick in an annoyed voice.  “I explained to the class, including you, that I will not tolerate interruptions that prevent student concentration on class work.”  
          “But she’s got a cat on her shoulder,” protested Mr. Richards.  He had sandy brown hair and an angry face.   
          “So?”  
          “We’re not supposed to have animals here!”  
          “Have you a cat you wish to bring to class?” asked Professor Flitwick.   
          “Uh, no, but—”  
          “When you do, please talk with me privately.  In the meantime,” continued Professor Flitwick, “five points from Slytherin for interrupting the class.  I trust you will not do it again, Mr. Richards.”  With that, he dismissed the student.  Mr. Richards looked like he was ready to argue some more but his classmates nudged him to be quiet.  The rest of the students hastily returned to spell casting practice.  
          While all the students looked industriously at work, Holly could feel a change in the atmosphere.  The Slytherin disdain and contempt had turned to anger—Mr. Richards sat near so she knew much of the anger must be his.  But the anger felt stronger than one person, not just Mr. Richards.  Holly was sure the anger was directed at _her_ for making them loose House points.  She hadn’t meant to, but somehow Holly had made an enemy maybe more than one…

********************

          Holly had Herbology with the Gryffindor students after lunch.  Professor Longbottom was a tall husky younger man who obviously loved his topic.  The students met at long tables already covered with potted plants.  Then the Professor had all the students wading in the muck hunting and picking magical tubers and roots.  Sasha did not like the water and spent her time on the water's edge playing with butterflies.   
          Holly found she didn’t mind Sasha’s absence so much.  The Gryffindors had not arrived in force with a single emotion.  Instead, she felt the usual emotional mix she had often felt while at school last year.  Holly had always managed to deal with it before.  Now, however, she knew the cause of those extra emotions.  Knowing that cause made all the difference in the world.  With Sasha, Holly had begun to recognize her own emotions from others.  While she couldn’t actually block the other emotions, Holly could at least ignore them better.  Still, she kept her distance, hunting for roots away from the other students, using the familiar emotions of Mark and Becky as buffers.   
          Holly watched her cousin Albus from afar.  He seemed nice enough.  He laughed easily with his classmates and displayed no concern over getting wet.  Did he watch her as she watched him?  She couldn’t tell.  Once Holly heard Albus call the Professor “Nevil.”  They must know each other outside of class.  
          It took longer than expected to clean up after Herbology but Becky didn’t seem worried about being late to their next class, History of Magic.  Nor did she seem to think it was important for Holly to arrive there early.  Consequently, they arrived along with the other Hufflepuff students.  Most of the Ravenclaws were already seated.  Holly followed Becky and laid her assignment on the professor’s desk with the other papers.  Then she hastily found an empty seat against the wall away from the other Ravenclaw students and sat down.  
          As the Hogwarts clock chimed the hour, the pearly gray transparent form of Professor Binns seemed to rise directly out of the professor’s desk and began to lecture.  
          “A ghost?!!!” squeaked Holly in a panic.  “You didn’t tell me Professor Binns was a ghost!!!”  Becky giggled.  
          “Hush up!” whispered Mark urgently.  “I am trying to take notes!  Professor Binns never slows down and he never repeats!”  So Holly and Becky pulled out their own quills and diligently attempted to take notes too.   
          “I can’t believe I wrote a foot long essay on _Roman Wizards in Britain_ to hand in to a ghost!” said Holly to Mark and Becky when they were finally dismissed from class.  “How’s he going to grade them?”  
          “You wait,” said Mark.  “Come Wednesday those papers will be in exactly the same position as they are right now but they’ll be all graded.”   
          “Prefects Ben and Gwen say you don’t want to mess with Professor Binns,” added Becky.  “He gives out the same assignments every year but you still have to do your own work.  One of the Slytherin boys put a paper on that desk and it burst into flames!  It burned all the other papers on the desk at the time too!  Everyone had to take a zero!  The Slytherins wouldn’t say but the Hufflepuffs all thought that Slytherin paper had been copied and that’s why it caught fire.”  
          “Stephen Willits told me he saw a Gryffindor student try to put a Weasley Dung Bomb on the desk,” added Mark.  “Dung bombs have a 30-second timer on them to enable the student to get well away before the bombs go off.  But this bomb went off in the boy’s hands before it even touched the desk!  It took two whole weeks before that boy quit smelling like cow poop!  Was that boy ever embarrassed!”   

********************

          “I think the emotions are stronger than any I ever remember feeling at school last year,” said Holly.  She was discussing her day with Madam Pomfrey after dinner.   
          “There could be several reasons for that,” said Madam Pomfrey.  “They may just seem stronger because you have muted emotions to compare them against.  Also, it could be that wizards project their emotions more strongly than Muggles and, of course, you are getting older and your abilities may be growing with you.”  
           “What’s really strange,” continued Holly, “was that the Ravenclaws all had a single emotion when they walked into class as did the Slytherins.  But not the Gryffindors and I don’t feel anything much with the Hufflepuffs.  Of course,” she continued, “I pretty much know everyone in the Hufflepuff House so maybe they all just seem normal now.”   
          “Oh?” said Madam Pomfrey as she weighed Holly and gave her the once over physically.  “What did you feel with the Ravenclaws?”   
          Holly thought about it.  “Mostly confidence,” she replied.  “Like they were all prepared for class and nothing could phase them.”  
          “And the Slytherins?”   
          Holly thought some more.  “At first, they kind of ignored us.  But then,” she thought about the incident with Sasha.  “I don’t think they liked us or rather, me, very much.  The Gryffindors were a mixture of everything.  No one single emotion stood out.”  
          “Actually, I’m not surprised,” said Madam Pomfrey.  “Rowena Ravenclaw, the founder of the Ravenclaw House, wanted only the wisest and the cleverest students in her house.  Ravenclaw students are smart and they know it.”  
          “Oh.”  
          “Salazar Slytherin, the founder of the Slytherin House, sought those who loved power; people who were both clever and ambitious.  One is of little interest to them unless one can help them achieve their goals.”  
          “Or blocks them,” added Holly, remembering the anger she felt when the Slytherins lost House points.  
          “Or blocks them,” agreed Madam Pomfrey.   
          “And the Gryffindors?” asked Holly curiously.  
          “Well, Godric Gryffindor prized those who were noble, brave and bold.  That’s a way of life, not an emotion.  So of course no one emotion would stand out.”  
          “And Hufflepuff?”  
          “Helga Hufflepuff valued those who worked hard, were honest and true.  Hufflepuffs don’t seek fame or glory; they are good solid people, the backbone of the wizard world.”   
          Holly smiled.  That sounded a lot like her.  She liked her Hufflepuff friends.  Holly had worried she should have been placed in Gryffindor with all the other Potters, but she didn’t feel at all noble or brave.   
          “What House are you from!” asked Holly shyly.  
          “Hufflepuff, of course,” replied Madam Pomfrey proudly.   
          Holly nodded, _“Of course,”_ she thought to herself.  Then Holly thought of something else.  “Um, Madam Pomfrey?” she asked hesitantly.  
          “Yes?”   
          “What House was, ah, You-Know-Who from?”  Holly thought she already knew the answer but she wanted to be sure.  
          “Slytherin,” replied Madam Pomfrey briskly.  “He was about as ambitious as they come.  Mind you, his idea of power meant killing off the opposition and enslaving darned near everyone else.  He came pretty close to achieving it too.  But that’s all over with now, thanks to Harry Potter.”   
          Madam Pomfrey finished her exam and addressed Holly.  “Well,” she said, “you’ve made remarkable progress in a short amount of time.”  Holly smiled at the praise.  “But I don’t think we should attempt to do too much too soon.  If any one particular emotion stands out above the rest, try to figure out its source.  Otherwise, I want you to keep on doing what you’ve done so far and check back in with me on Friday.”  
          “Yes, ma’am,” said Holly happily.  She rose and left the room.

 ********************

          Before returning to her dorm Holly decided to make a quick trip to the library to check out some books for Herbology and Potions homework.  The actual assignments weren’t due until Friday, but it never hurt to get started early.  So, with her arms loaded with books, Holly headed back to her dorm.  One book, labeled _Common and Uncommon Weeds; What They Really Do_ , had a cover of scratchy roots that Holly could swear kept tickling and trying to grab her arms.  Holly had scarcely passed the Grand Hall when someone bumped into her so hard that Sasha spilled off her shoulder and all her books went flying.  
          “Hey!” said an angry voice.  “Watch where you’re going!”  
          “Me?” squeaked Holly in surprise.  “It wasn’t me!  You—” She looked up at the angry voice and saw a tall Slytherin boy wearing a Prefect badge towering over her.  She recognized him as the one she had encountered with Ben and Mark Saturday night.  
          “Me?  Are you accusing me?  Why would I run into a pipsqueak like you?  I think you owe me an apology!” the Prefect demanded.  
          “I—But—” Holly didn’t know what to do.  Her head was overwhelmed with conflicting emotions.  Sasha was circling Holly’s feet hissing angrily at the Prefect.  Holly felt shame and embarrassment at being singled out and unjustly accused and the Prefect, well he seemed to feel nothing but righteous anger at being bumped.  But she hadn’t bumped into him at all!  
          “Well, well, well!  Are my eyes deceiving me?” broke in a new voice.  Both Holly and the Prefect turned to look at the source of the new voice.  Holly recognized the speaker as her cousin, James, walking forward to join the two.  Nearly as tall as the Prefect, James seemed totally unconcerned and unafraid of the angry Prefect.  “Here, I thought you only bullied Gryffindor students, and now I find you terrorizing a Hufflepuff!  Are you expanding your horizons, Richards, or were the Gryffindors too much for you?”   
          “You watch your mouth, Potter,” said Richards now directing his anger at James.  “I’m a Prefect now!”  
          “Of course you are,” agreed James lightly.  “So shouldn’t you be off looking for some rule-breakers?  This little Hufflepuff surely doesn’t fall into that category especially—” James lowered his voice so it couldn’t be heard by the other students now gathering to watch the show, “since it was _you_ that bumped into her.  I _did_ see you veer into her, Richards, and I’ll tell that to any person who comes by if you want to make an issue of it.”   
          Richards glowered a moment at James, and then turned away.  “Oh never mind,” he muttered and stalked off.  The two stood watching him leave.   
          When he was out of sight Holly bent to collect her books.  “Thanks,” whispered Holly.  She felt unsteady from the recent onslaught of strong emotion.  
          “I don’t think he likes you very much,” observed James quietly as he knelt down to help.  
          “There was,” began Holly hesitantly, “uh, a, Richards in class today that lost Slytherin 5 House points.  I think the person blamed me.”  
          “Ah,” said James while brushing off one of the books, “that would explain it.  Tom Richards has a younger brother, Anthony, in the First years.  It would be pretty embarrassing for Tom if Anthony lost Slytherin House points.”  
          “But,” began Holly, “I didn’t—”  
          “Of course not,” agreed James.  “But Slytherins never take the blame for anything.  It’s always someone else’s fault.”  He picked up the scratchy weed book with one hand and held out his free hand.  “By the way, I’m James, James Potter.”   
          Holly shook his hand.  “I’m Holly, Holly Wycliff.  You’re my, uh—”  
          “Cousin,” finished James.  “Yeah, I know.  Dad wrote me."  He straightened and the two began to walk together towards the stairs.  
          “What else did your dad say?” asked Holly, interested.  
          “Well, he said you were a cousin from a Muggle family and didn’t know anything at all about wizards.”  
          “That’s true,” agreed Holly.  “Did he explain why I was arriving late?”  
          “Not really,” replied James.  “Just that you had been sick.”  They turned onto the stairs.  
          “Did he write anything more?”  
          “Not much,” admitted James.  “Just to keep an eye on you and to give you,” he hesitated, “your space.”  
          “Oh.”  Holly considered that.  “That was thoughtful of him.  Does your, uh, brother know?”  
          “Albus?  Of course!  Rose too,” James added.   “She’s family.  Rose is our cousin on my mum’s side,” he explained.  
          Holly considered that.  “Did you,” she began hesitantly, “did you tell anyone else that we’re uh, we’re related?”  
          “Are you kidding?”  James sounded shocked at the suggestion.  “I wouldn’t do that to anyone!  Let alone someone from a Muggle family who just learned she was a wizard!”  
          “What do you mean?”  
          “Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but dad is kind of famous.”   
          “Um, yes.  I had.”   
          “Unfortunately,” continued James, “anyone who is somehow connected to dad kind of shares that fame.”  They came to the end of some stairs and mounted the next.  “When I first came here,” James added explaining, “everyone was looking at me, pointing and whispering behind my back—and then came the questions:  “What’s your dad like?”   “What’s it like to be the son of a hero?”  “Are you planning to do something heroic too?”  I didn’t even know dad was famous!  I mean, sure, I knew everyone liked dad but I didn’t know _why_.”  Holly nodded remembering how nice everyone had been to Mr. Potter while they were in Diagon Alley.  They moved off that staircase to another and James continued.   
          “Dad never talks about You-Know-Who, _ever!_   Neither does Rose’s parents and they were involved in helping dad defeat the guy from the very beginning.  I felt pretty dumb that all these strangers knew more about dad than I did.  I had to look up the story in old editions of the _Daily Prophet_ , the wizard newspaper, and even it tells precious little.”  They walked silently together further up the steps and then James spoke some more.   
          “When we were on the train coming here, I tried to warn Albus and Rose what to expect but it didn’t help much.  I don’t think they really believed me.  Rose was in tears by the second day because she couldn’t stand all that attention and I’m sure Albus wasn’t much better.  I’ve been telling them that the interest will wear off after a while but it hasn’t yet.”   
          Holly nodded.  She, too, had been pointed out the Potter family first thing when she arrived and could now imagine similar conversations having happened all over the school.  No, she definitely didn’t want that kind of notoriety.  “Thanks for keeping quiet,” she said.   
          James smiled, his brown eyes twinkling.  “No problem.  They’ll eventually find out about you, but not from us.”  He handed Holly her weed book.  “I believe this is your floor.”   
          Holly nodded and took the scratchy book.  “Thank you.  It was nice meeting you, uh, cousin.”  
          “You too,” said James.  “See you around.”  And the two parted company.

 


	7. Chapter 7

          Holly read her letter one more time.  She already had its contents memorized.  Holly had been quite thrilled when the tiny owl had arrived at breakfast with its message; she hadn’t really expected her parents to write back.  The letter was brief:   

                        **Dear Holly** **,** it began. 

                        **Hope you are doing well.  We love you and miss you.**

**Mum and Dad.**

          After the excitement of its arrival wore off, the letter reminded Holly how much she missed her parents.  Sure, the people were nice here, but it wasn’t home.  Thinking of her parents made Holly realize how much she longed for something normal.  She wanted to use a pencil instead of a quill; she longed for steps that didn’t move; pictures that didn’t talk, books that didn’t fight back, and a place where the ghosts didn’t pop up unexpectedly.  Everyone else seemed happy at Hogwarts and that only seemed to intensify her feelings of homesickness.  Holly would have happily returned home in a minute, except she knew she needed Hogwarts to learn how to deal with her empathic abilities.  
          The first year students all seemed eager to attend class today.  Everyone, that is, except Holly.  Today’s class was titled Defense Against the Dark Arts.  That sounded scary.  Mixing potions, moving cubes and digging roots all seemed harmless enough but the Dark Arts— Holly had already looked through her book, _The Dark Forces, a Guide to Self Protection, Revised,_ in an effort to complete last week’s homework.  It contained all sorts of scary sounding topics—werewolves, trolls, vampires, boggarts, hexes and jinxes, counter curses…  Holly wanted nothing to do with any of that.  
          Something else was preying on Holly’s mind.  James was right; no doubt her relationship to Harry Potter would come out and when it did, would all the Hufflepuffs whisper and point behind her back?  She dreaded the day and didn’t know what to do about it.  
          “Hey!  Holly, hurry up!” shouted Mark.  “You want to get there early, remember?”  
          Holly sighed and tucked away the letter in a pocket.  She was stuck here now whether she liked it or not and that meant attending the Defense Against the Dark Arts class.  Best to get it over with.  
          Right across from the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts room hung a huge painting.  Holly lingered outside of class to look at it.  She recognized the background as the Great Hall of Hogwarts, though in a much battered condition.  A single ray of sunlight streamed in illuminating the figures in the front.  The main figure was that of Harry Potter:  a much younger, thinner, Harry Potter, to be sure, but definitely Harry Potter.  He stood in wizard robes, wand extended, facing a second figure, tall and thin, also in wizard robes; only his back was visible but Holly knew this must be Lord Voldemort.  Lord Voldemort, too, had his wand extended.  A jet of green light shot from Lord Voldemort’s wand and a brilliant yellow light came from Harry Potter’s wand.  The lights looked ready to meet at any moment.  
          “What was that?”  Holly had been so busy looking that she missed whatever Mark had just said.   
          “I said, the picture doesn’t move!”  Mark repeated.  “I’ve stood in front of it several times waiting and watching, but it never moves.  Isn’t that strange?”  
          “I think it looks fine just the way it is,” stated Becky firmly.  “Come on, Holly, before the other students arrive.”   
          Reluctantly, Holly left the painting determined to examine it more at a later time.  
          Professor Lovegood was reading a book when they arrived.  She wore large oversized lavender rhinestone glasses that made her eyes look even bigger and had long straggly blonde hair.  Three large plume-like feathers, one red, one green and one turquoise blue poked out of her hair.  A purple butterfly clip held some of her hair back in place.  The clip fluttered its wings gently.  Professor Lovegood never looked at the trio when they arrived but just continued reading.  The three sat down and got out their notes and supplies.   
          “You’ve got a new wand, Miss Smith,” commented Professor Lovegood serenely not even glancing up from her book.   
          Becky smiled, pleased that the professor noticed.  “Yes,” she replied.  “It’s ash and unicorn hair.  I got it from Ollivander’s.  Isn’t it beautiful?”   
          “Mr. Ollivander makes excellent wands,” said Professor Lovegood instead and continued to read turning a page.  Holly realized with astonishment, that the book the professor was reading was upside down!  Presently, the Professor asked,  “What happened to your other wand?”   
          “It, ah, wasn’t right, somehow,” began Becky, not sure how to explain.  
          “Yes,” agreed Professor Lovegood not waiting for further explanation.  “Some wands just aren’t right somehow.”  She turned another page and then spoke again, still not looking up from her book.  “You must be Miss Wycliff.”  
          “Yes, ma’am,” replied Holly.   
          “You don’t look sick at all.”  
          “I’m not,” agreed Holly, “uh, not now, that is,” she amended.  
          “Oh,” came that same unconcerned voice as she turned another page.  “That’s good.  You can’t learn when you’re sick and miss classes.”  Professor Lovegood looked up from her book and regarded Holly intently.  She noted Sasha, curled quietly on Holly’s lap and then spoke in that same unconcerned voice.   
          “The last time I saw a student who was constantly with a cat, she turned out to be an Empath.”  Holly froze.  Professor Lovegood returned her attention to her book and then continued serenely.  “She was a Gryffindor.  She had some sort of problem sorting out emotions.”  Holly looked up at the Professor not knowing what to say.  But the Professor turned another page clearly not expecting a response from Holly.  The room remained silent while Professor Lovegood read another two pages before speaking again.  “But she got over it.  I’m sure you will too.”   
          More students started trooping in, Slytherin students.  Professor Lovegood put down her book, took off her glasses and stood ready to start the class.  Once Professor Lovegood collected all the homework of the previous day, she proceeded to lecture on identifying the difference between magical creatures, enchantments and things actually touched by Dark Magic.  
          “…Wrackle-squirts, fizz-gibbons and doodle-warts act that way naturally—they are not inherently Dark,” she continued.  “It’s just a matter of knowing how to deal with them.  But when spoons, cups and bedspreads start to behave in a way they shouldn’t, like talking, lighting fires and making dinner, that’s the time to get worried.  Cursed items are the most difficult to identify.  They are often something that looks common or ordinary placed somewhere easily accessible.  The cursed item doesn’t quite belong somehow and that difference tends to tempt the unwary to touch or pick it up thus becoming affected by the curse.  The safest thing to do when you encounter something suspicious is keep away from it and find someone more knowledgeable to investigate and take care of the matter.” she concluded.    
          One of the Slytherin boys raised his hand.  He was thin and blond with arrogant features.  “Excuse me, Professor,” he said, “but what is a fizz-gibbon?  I’ve never heard of such a thing.”  There was a smirk on his face as he spoke and Holly could feel waves of disbelief emanating from both Slytherins and Hufflepuffs at the name.  
          “Fizz-gibbons are very shy creatures about the size of an ant, Mr. Malfoy,” responded Professor Lovegood calmly.  Her purple butterfly clip fluttered about and latched onto a different lock of hair causing the turquoise feather to tip precariously.  “They like to come out at night and bite people very hard when they least expect it.”   
          “I don’t think there is such a thing as a wrackle-squirt, either,” voiced a Slytherin girl boldly.  She had beady black eyes, thick short brown braids and a chunky, muscular body.   
          “Just because you have never seen a wrackle-squirt, Miss Goyle,” responded Professor Lovegood, unperturbed, “doesn’t mean they don’t exist.  It only shows how elusive they are and how strong their desire is to not be seen.  But when they thump incessantly on your head at night, no headache potion will stop the pain.”   
          Professor Lovegood re-secured her turquoise feather and continued with the lecture as if there had been no interruptions.  When she finished, she gave out new homework assignments and announced it would be time for wand practice.   
          “The first spell we will be practicing is a defensive spell called _Expelliarmus.  Expelliarmus_ ,” she continued by way of introduction, “is a disarming spell.  It is a popular spell for use during wizard duels.  It is also quite useful should you wish to knock the twigs out of a Bow Truckle’s hand and, if done properly, can knock a thieving gnome across the yard.  What you do is…”  
          Richards leaned over to Malfoy.  “Bow Truckles!” he snorted, loud enough to be heard by the whole class.  “As if I care!”  The blond boy smirked in agreement.  It was a rather infuriating looking smirk.  
          Professor Lovegood gave no sign of hearing the comment but without missing a beat, continued talking.  “It might interest the class to know that mastery of this spell is required of all first year students before they may pass this class.”  That got everyone’s attention.   
          “Are you serious!” broke in Malfoy derisively.  “The Ministry thinks that tossing gnomes around is so important that it has become a requirement?”   
          A chorus of  “Yeahs!” were shouted out from other Slytherin students.   
          The noise forced Professor Lovegood to stop her talking and look directly at the offending students.  “While I would like to think the Ministry saw the importance of disarming Bow Truckles, Mr. Malfoy,” she began, “I suspect the Ministry requires mastery of this spell because it was the one Harry Potter used to defeat Lord Voldemort.”  The whole class drew a swift intake of breath at that.   
          Becky leaned over to Mark and whispered.  “Who’s Lord Vol—?”      
          “Hush!” replied Mark urgently, waiting to see what would happen next.  
          Then Miss Goyle spoke up.  “You _dare_ to speak the Dark Lord’s name?”   
          “Of course,” replied Professor Lovegood serenely.  “This is a Defense Against the Dark Arts class.  Where better?”   
          There was complete silence throughout the class as the students considered this.  Then Richards spoke up with a derisive laugh in his voice.  “Are you telling me that the greatest wizard of our time was defeated with a _mere_ disarming spell?”  
          “Yes,” said Professor Lovegood simply.  “I was there.  I heard the spell shouted.  Perhaps Lord Voldemort would have been better off had he chosen a defensive spell of his own instead of an unforgivable curse.”  That brought about another swift intake of breath from the whole class; she had everyone’s attention.   
          “Of course,” she continued seemingly unaware of the change in the atmosphere of the class, “I can understand why he did it; he wanted to end things quickly.  After all, Lord Voldemort had just shouted out to everyone that he had killed Harry Potter, brought out Harry’s body as proof, and then there was Harry Potter again, looking quite healthy and alive, ready to face him.  It must have been most embarrassing.”  Professor drew her own wand seemingly oblivious that the Slytherin students had grown quite angry at her disparaging comments.  “And as for calling him the greatest wizard of our times, Mr. Richards,” Professor Lovegood continued blithely, “I hardly think so.  After all, Lord Voldemort _lost_.”    
          Ignoring the stir her comments caused, Professor Lovegood pointed her own wand at a huge mirror on one side of the room.  The mirror swung open revealing a room beyond.  It was lined with standing suits of armor.  Each suit was posed with one armored glove extended.  In each raised glove was a single feather.  “We shall begin,” continued Professor Lovegood, “with trying to remove the feather out of the hand.  Everyone, find your own feather.”  
          Professor Lovegood ignored the loud mutterings of the Slytherin students who were clearly upset at her dismissal of the abilities of Lord Voldemort.  She calmly moved around the room correcting student positions and pronunciations.  Soon the room was filled with loud blasts as students tried out the spell.  Lots of things went flying, unfortunately, none of them were feathers.  Becky was sure she had made her feather move a bit, but Holly suspected that it moved more due to the wind caused by flying helmets and other armor parts than anything Becky had said.   
          Holly had a difficult time practicing the spell.  The first helmet that went flying landed with a loud clatter next to Holly’s feet.  Sasha, much to Richard’s delight, leaped off Holly’s shoulder and skittered into the classroom taking refuge under Holly’s desk.  Holly tried to concentrate and cast her spells without Sasha’s insulating purr.  Unfortunately, the room was filled with disgruntled Slytherins (they clearly had not liked and were still upset over Professor’s Lovegood’s comments concerning Lord Voldemort) and frustrated students who couldn’t make the spell work.  (That was everyone!)  Their feelings naturally spilled over into Holly’s efforts.  She couldn’t even get her wand to react to the command.  Holly was in tears by the end of the practice.  She even secretly wondered if Richards had deliberately sent that first helmet flying her way but everyone was so bad at the spell she doubted it.  
          Professor Lovegood seemed unconcerned at the lack of student success.  “Don’t worry,” she said calmly.  “That’s why we start working on this spell so soon.  You may come into this room to practice any time it’s not in use.  We have all year to get the spell right.”   
          Holly made a note to herself to return to the room to practice when the Slytherins weren’t around.

 ********************

          Compared to the defense Against the Dark Arts class, Transfigurations was a breeze.  The Head of the Hufflepuff House, Professor Iverson, was the instructor.  Though stern, she didn’t seem unreasonable.  When she stood to lecture though, Holly gave a small gasp.  Professor Iverson was tall, very tall.  With those long legs and long arms and dressed in a brown and orange flecked robe Holly was reminded of a walking stick insect she had seen once on the tube.   
          The Gryffindors attended this class with the Hufflepuffs.  As they were a generally cheerful group the whole mood of the class seemed fairly light.  Students laughed openly at their own and each other’s mistakes instead of getting frustrated and angry.  Holly’s matchstick actually got a bit silvery and pointy by the end of the period.  Certainly, other students, like Rose and Mark, got their matches to look more like needles, but Holly didn’t feel totally lost or out of place during instruction.  
          After lunch, Mark announced he was taking a nap and suggested both Holly and Becky get a bit of rest, too.  
          “Whatever for?” asked Holly.    
          “We’ve got Astrology tonight, remember?” he announced.  “Midnight, on the lawn…  Last week,” he confided,  “I could barely keep my eyes open during Potions the next day; Professor Slughorn took two House points from Hufflepuff and assigned me extra homework when he caught me yawning.  He seemed to think I thought his class was boring…  Well, it was, but that wasn’t why I was yawning…”  
           So Holly and Becky decided to get a bit of rest too.

 ********************

          Holly couldn’t sleep.  She managed to rest a bit, but that fiasco in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class distressed her greatly.  She decided to use what was left of her afternoon to return to the classroom and see if she could do better without all the distractions.  Putting Sasha on her shoulder she wound her way through the halls and corridors back to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.  That painting still hung across from the front door.  Holly lingered over it a bit.  Its lack of movement drew her like a magnet.  She wanted to look at it longer, but maybe later.   
          Holly resolutely entered the class.  The room was empty.  She walked over to the mirror and realized suddenly she had no idea how to open the door to the practice room.  She drew her wand and waved in all sorts of ways, shouting “open,” “enter” and other such words but to no avail.  In frustration, she turned to leave.   
          “There is more than one way to get a door to open,” said a serene voice behind her.  Holly recognized the voice as that of Professor Lovegood.  She looked around but saw no one.  Holly looked some more.  The Professor _had_ to be there.  Finally, Holly thought of looking up.  There was Professor Lovegood.  She was perched from a weird skeleton that was hanging in the ceiling. (Susan claimed it was the skeleton of a dragon.)  Professor Lovegood was reading a magazine.  This time Holly could read the title because it was upright.  It said: _Wracklefurts: Fact or Fiction_.  Of course, Professor Lovegood was upside down.  She had draped her body over the back leg bones of the Dragon and her long blonde hair dangled loosely.  Her butterfly had clipped two of the feathers together.   
          “Try knocking,” the professor suggested not even looking up (or was it down) from her magazine.   
          Holly returned to the mirror and gave it three solid raps.  Nothing happened.  She pulled and tugged at the mirror and still it wouldn’t open.   
          “You’re not a Third year,” came Professor Lovegood’s voice.   
          Holly puzzled over the professor’s words a while.  Then she smiled.  Again Holly advanced to the mirror.  This time she gave it a solid, single rap.  The mirror swung open easily revealing the room beyond.  “Thank you,” said Holly and walked inside. The mirror door swung shut after her.   
          Sasha jumped down and immediately started to swat a fallen feather.  Alone in the room, Holly selected a suit of armor and a feather.  She aimed her wand carefully and shouted _“Expelliarmus!_ ”  Nothing happened.  Holly shifted the angle of the wand and tried again.  Still nothing.  She tried different swishing movements different accents on the word _Expelliarmu_ s all to no avail.  Nothing seemed to work.  Finally Holly quit in despair.  It hadn’t been the distractions after all.  It was herself!  She was no good at this stuff.   
          _“Expelliarmu_ s is a defensive spell,” came a quiet voice behind her.  Professor Lovegood had entered the room and stood behind her.  Holly hadn’t heard the door open.  “Your wand is not the enemy.  Your wand is an extension of your arm; it is part of you,” she continued.  “Close your eyes.”  Holly closed them.  “Remember the joy you felt when you first swished this wand at Ollivander’s?”  Holly nodded.  “Think of that moment.  Open your eyes and look at your target.”  Holly opened her eyes.  “Point your arm.”  Holly extended her arm.  “Now the wand.”  Holly did so.  “Move your wand like this when you say your spell.  And Professor Lovegood gently moved Holly’s wrist into the correct motions.  “Now, say the spell.”  
_“Expelliarmus!”_ shouted Holly as she swished her wand.  A warm tingle seemed to flow through her arm and out the wand.  On the other side, the white feather drifted lazily through the air.  “I did it!”  Holly said excitedly.   
          “So you have,” agreed Professor Lovegood with a dreamy smile.   
          Holly aimed her wand at another feather. _“Expelliarmus!”_ she shouted again.  This feather, too, floated up and over the helmet.  Sasha jumped up to catch it.  Over and over Holly aimed her wand and felt the satisfaction of watching the feather float out of the gloved grasp.  When she finally tired, she looked around the room and realized she was again alone.  Satisfied with her efforts, Holly opened the door and left the practice room.  Sasha followed behind.  The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom seemed empty also.  Holly even checked the skeleton as she passed.  
          The painting just outside and opposite the door loomed large in front of her.  This time, Holly stopped to study it further.  Beneath the painting she read an inscription.  It said _:_

 

_**“Sometimes you’ve got to think about more than your own safety!**_  
_**Sometimes you’ve got to think about the greater good.”** _  
_**Harry Potter** _

          The details of the painting were incredible: the grim determination on Harry Potter’s face as he cast his spell; the slender pale white fingers that clutched the opposing wand.  It all looked so real: the mud, dirt and leaves still clinging to Harry Potter’s robes, his glasses slightly askew, shattered suits of armor, cracks and blast marks in the floors and walls.  People crowded the background, all anxiously awaiting the outcome.  With a start Holly recognized Professor Hagrid standing in the crowd, towering over the other people.  Looking closer Holly also recognized both Headmistress McGonagall and Professor Slugworth, with their wands extended, looking ready to jump into the fray if necessary.  
          “It’s a rather nice painting, don’t you think?”  Professor Lovegood’s serene voice sounded nearby.  Holly turned and saw Professor Lovegood standing behind her, also looking at the painting.  “See, here I am,” she pointed out a tall skinny blond girl standing to one side wearing purple leggings, her own wand extended ready for use.  It did look a lot like a younger Professor Lovegood.  She pointed to a tall bald black wizard standing next to Professor Slughorn with his wand also extended, ready for action.  “That’s Kingsley Shacklebolt," the professor told Holly.  "He’s the Minister of Magic now.”  Minister Shaklebolt's gold earring seemed to gleam in the morning sun.  “And there,” she pointed to a tall young man holding a sword in one hand, “is Professor Longbottom.  He was very brave that day.”   
          Holly studied the painting further.  Sasha wound herself around Holly’s legs.  Presently Holly asked, “Why doesn’t it move?”   
          “That’s to remind us that more than wizards were affected by Lord Voldemort’s rule,” replied Professor Lovegood quietly.  “It was painted by Michael Creevy, a Muggle.  His son, Colin, first attended Hogwarts the same year I did.  Colin always had a camera.  I think he wanted to be a journalist.  Colin and his family had to go into hiding 5 years later when Lord Voldemort took over.  At that time Ministry of Magic was arresting and imprisoning any person displaying wizard powers but couldn’t prove wizard parents.  When Colin heard there would be a battle at Hogwarts against Lord Voldemort, he returned to join the fight.  He died at Hogwarts.”  The two studied the painting further.   
          “Mr. Creevy only painted as a hobby,” Professor Lovegood continued her reflections.  “But when Colin died, he felt he _had_ to do something.  He wasn’t here at the time, of course, but he conducted many interviews with people who _were_ present trying to find out what happened to Colin.  He even talked to Harry Potter.  Then Mr. Creevy came here to paint.  The rest of the wizards weren’t keen on the idea, of course, but he was the only person Harry would approve to do a painting.  I do believe it was the first time a Muggle ever visited Hogwarts…”  
          The school bell tolled loudly in the distance bringing both back to the present.    
          “That signals the time for dinner,” commented Professor Lovegood.  “Are you hungry?  You should be after all that spell work.”   
          Holly thought about it and then nodded.  “Yes, I am.”  
          “Then perhaps you should go eat.  Have a good day, Miss Wycliff.”  
          Holly scooped up Sasha and put her on her shoulder.  “Good-bye,” she shouted as she raced down the corridor leaving Professor Lovegood still gazing at the painting.

********************

          At midnight Holly found herself with the other Hufflepuff students stretched out on the lawn near the Forbidden Forest watching the stars with Professor Firenze.  It had been a good thing they arrived early.  Professor Firenze, a handsome older centaur with silver hair and a palomino body, gazed deeply into Holly’s face and said  “You have eyes like your cousin.”   
          “Cousin?  What cousin?” whispered Becky.  “I thought you had Muggle parents.”   
          “I do,” Holly whispered back.   
          “If Professor Firenze knows your cousin, that means he must be a wizard,” said Mark.  “So, who’s your cousin?”   
          Holly thought briefly about stalling but she had been meaning to tell them anyway so decided to go for broke.  She took a deep breath and said, “Harry Potter.”   
          “WHAT!” exploded Becky and Mark together.   
          “The night skies,” interrupted Professor Firenze in his deep, commanding but disinterested voice, “are best observed in silence.”  
          Both Becky and Mark were about to burst with questions but the Professor would permit no more talking…  Other students soon arrived and settled down for class.  The students snuggled under thick warm blankets and leaned against puffy pillows while they gazed at the sky.  Sasha slipped out and chased moths while the Professor lectured.  He pointed out basic constellations and star systems.  He handed the students bewitched paper that gave off a gentle glow.  On it, the students drew their own star charts directly from the stars.  Mark complained that he couldn’t see properly to take notes, but Holly thought it was the best class ever.   
          Mark and Becky pinned Holly down for all the details about her relationship to Harry Potter after class while they were walking back to their dorm.  Holly told them how sick she had been all summer and then waking up to see the mysterious Harry Potter sitting next to her bed claiming to be her cousin.  “I never even knew I had a cousin, let alone one that was a wizard,” finished Holly.   
          “But why didn’t you tell us sooner?” exclaimed Mark.   
          “He was just my cousin,” replied Holly.  “I’d never heard of him before.  I had no idea he was famous.”  
          “And when you realized he was famous?” queried Becky.  
          “Then it was too late.  It would have sounded like boasting and bragging.  I was going to tell you, I just didn’t know how…”  
          “Well,” said Becky, “I’m glad you did.”   
          “Yeah,” said Mark.  “Wait till I tell the others.”   
          “You can’t do that!” said Holly, panicked.  “Then word will get out and everyone will point and whisper behind my back like they do the Potters.”   
          Mark stopped, appalled.  “We wouldn’t do that.  We’re Hufflepuffs.”   
          But Holly was too scared.  After much persuasion, Mark and Becky reluctantly agreed to keep the information about Harry Potter secret “for now.”

********************

          True to Mark’s predictions, Holly could barely keep her eyes open during Potions class the next day.  Fortunately, Becky kept on pinching Holly to keep her from yawning and slipping off into sleep.  Of course, the potion Holly mixed turned a muddy brown instead of a sparkling green (she stirred it 7 times instead of 6 and three quarters.) but Mark and Becky’s green potions more than offset Holly’s poor work.   
          Professor Slughorn seemed disappointed that Holly’s potion hadn’t turned out right especially after her success the first day (high marks on the quiz and a correctly mixed potion) but then he decided that Holly had spent her time helping her classmates improve their scores.  “Hufflepuffs always help each other,” he said to himself as he examined and graded the finished potions.  
          After all her practice on _Expelliarmus_ pushing a cube across the desk seemed easy.  With a little whispered coaching Mark and Becky were soon able to move their cubes also.  Other students in the class were moving their cubes as well.  The blond Slytherin, Malfoy, got his cube to move so fast it went flying across the desk and shot into the air hitting Sasha in the shoulder.  Sasha gave yowl of pain, jumped off of Holly’s shoulder and hid under the desk.   
          All this happened while Holly was in the middle of casting her own spell.  Because of the sudden pain in Holly’s shoulder, her spell went wild.  Her cube shot across her desk up into the air and smashed into a huge flask of red liquid splashing red fizzing stuff all over desks, students and floor.  “Oh no!” exclaimed Holly, horrified at the damage she had caused.   
          Professor Iverson sighed.  She pointed her wand at the mess and shouted _“Reparo totalas!”_ the flask returned to its original shape with its contents inside.  “Next time, Mr. Malfoy, you need to be less exuberant in your spell casting.”  
          “Sorry,” said Malfoy with a straight face.  But Holly could see and feel the smirk behind his and Richards' eyes.  
          “They weren’t sorry at all, were they?” hissed Becky angrily when they got out of class.  She had already figured out that Holly’s abilities made her exceptionally good at determining when someone was lying.   
          “No,They weren’t,” agreed Holly, rubbing her still painful shoulder.  “They may have even done it on purpose.” _"Sasha must be in a lot of pain for me to hurt like this!"_ thought Holly.  
          “Will she be OK?” asked Becky anxiously.   
          “I hope so,” said Holly.  She cradled Sasha in her arms and gently massaged the cat’s injured shoulder.  In a few minutes Holly’s own pain receded.  After a while Sasha started to purr so Holly knew the kitten was feeling better.  
          “We’re going to have to keep an eye on those two to make sure they don’t try something else,” said Mark grimly as they went down to lunch.   
          Classes after lunch seemed a breeze but Holly was so tired she was glad when the school day ended.  Defense Against the Dark Arts the next day went well also.  Even though Sasha stayed under the desks Holly had already had a taste of success so she was able to hold her own during practice. 

 *********************

          Holly’s next major concern was Broomstick Practice on Thursday.  Everyone else, even Becky, was looking forward with great excitement at the prospect of learning how to fly.  Holly wasn’t so sure, but it did look fun.  At least they shared the lesson with the Gryffindors so Holly didn’t have to worry about the negative Slytherin emotions or someone ‘accidentally’ bumping into Sasha while they learned to fly.   
          Madam Hooch, a tall energetic lady with short hair, brooked no nonsense.  She lined them up into two rows and clearly went over all the rules before they even touched their brooms.  Nervous anticipation and overall excitement made a solid wall of emotions behind Sasha’s constant purr.  Holly let the other students’ emotions fill her drowning out her own personal misgivings.  After several attempts most of the students managed to bring the broomsticks to their hands with the single command _“Up!”_     
          Madam Hootch then told the students to “Mount your brooms.”  The students got on their brooms.  “Now, when I blow my whistle,” she directed, “kick off from the ground hard, keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly.”  The whistle blew and everyone tried to get their brooms into the air.  It worked, mostly.  Becky’s broom hovered a few seconds and then did a nosedive stick end down crashing into the grass.  Holly’s broom hovered and then just kind of gave out flopping flatly on the ground.  But others, like Albus, Mark and Rose made a graceful touchdown landing after their few moments of hovering.  
          Their second attempt went much better.  Madam Hootch gave directions on steering and, as the newer students got the hang of flying, the air gradually filled with students on brooms flying about.  Soon, the sky filled with flying brooms and no one wanted to land.  
          Holly had never felt so free than she did with the wind whipping past her face while on a broom.  True, her broom wobbled about when she tried for turns, but going straight, it could really zoom—most exhilarating!  She could tell the other students felt the same way.  The sky became a free-for all with flying brooms and students.   
          “Look at me!” shouted Albus in delight, Holly looked up, laughing.  Albus was high in the sky on his broom.  He dove straight down between the other students coming out beneath them.  Then he wove in and out between other, slower wobbly students without touching a single one…  
          Suddenly Holly found herself curled up on the ground in pain.  Her world was a blur of agonizing pain.  Her head hurt, her arms, her legs, her stomach, her whole body… in a haze, she heard herself screaming but it didn’t stop the pain.  After what seemed an eternity the pain receded.  Holly felt Sasha perched on top of her purring loudly.  Her vision cleared and she saw the faces of Mark and Becky hovering over her.  
          “Are you O.K?” asked Becky anxiously.  
          “I—I don’t know,” replied Holly.  “What happened?”  
          “There was a huge crash,"  Mark said as he helped her sit up. "A whole lot of students sort of ran into each other and fell to the ground in a pile-up,” he explained, his face white.  “You weren’t anywhere near the crash but you just fell to the ground screaming.  It was scary!  I mean I knew you were an Empath and all, but I didn’t realize…  Just what were you sick with all summer?”    
          Before Holly could answer Madam Hootch loomed overhead.  “I got the rest of the injured students off to the infirmary,” she said.  “How are you doing, Miss Wycliff?”   
          “I, uh,” Holly closed her eyes and focused.  She heard and felt Sasha’s purr.  Almost immediately, most of the aches and pains disappeared.  The pounding in her head, remained.  “I think I hurt my head,” she said finally.   
          “I am not surprised,” said Madam Hooch.  “You took a nasty fall there.”  She looked at Holly’s head briefly.  “Does it hurt over here?” she asked touching Holly's forehead lightly.  
          “Yes,” agreed Holly wincing.   
          “It could be just a nasty bump but we’d best get it checked out.  Miss Smith and Mr. Owens, would you escort Miss Wycliff over to the infirmary, please?”   
          Becky and Mark nodded and helped Holly to stand.  They slowly moved off the field.  “I can’t go to the infirmary, now!” whispered Holly in a panic.  “The injured students!  I can’t go near them!”  
          “It’ll be O.K.,” assured Mark.  “I once broke my arm after falling off my brother’s broom.  It hurt like heck for a while but everything was fine after an hour or two.  You’ll see.  You’ve got Sasha now.  We’ll go as close as you can and then Becky or I will go the rest of the way to let Madam Pomfrey know you’re there.” 

 


	8. Chapter 8

          Much to Holly’s surprise, they made it all the way to the infirmary without any major difficulties.  Madam Pomfrey was waiting for her arrival.  “The other students said you had fallen too,” she announced, “so I wondered when you’d make it here.  I’ll be keeping Holly here for a while,” she told Mark and Becky, “so come back and check on her before dinner.”  
          “Dinner!” exclaimed Becky.  “I forgot!!!  We were supposed to have tea with Hagrid today!”  So Becky and Mark went off to Hagrid’s hut leaving Holly with Madam Pomfrey.  
          Madam Pomfrey ushered Holly into the hospital and sat her down on a curtained bed.  She drew her wand and said _“Muffalito.”_ She put her wand away.  “Now we won’t be heard.  Let me look at your head.”  After a quick examination, she determined it was only a “nasty bump.”  She opened a jar that had thick reddish looking goo that smelled like dirty socks.  She rubbed the goo onto Holly’s forehead.  Immediately the throbbing pounding ceased.   
          “Now,” said Madam Pomfrey when she had finished putting the jar away, “tell me about the accident.”   
          “There isn’t much to tell,” replied Holly.  “One moment I was flying with the wind and the next I was on the ground screaming.  I never saw it happen.”  
          “Hmmm.  And where was your cat?”  
          “She, ah,” began Holly guiltily, “Sasha was on the ground.  I wasn’t sure I could safely balance myself on the broom let alone balance the two of us…  I haven’t had too much problem being around the Gryffindors before, I thought I could handle it.”  
          “I see.  Well, Madam Hootch said you didn’t stop screaming until all the other injured students had left the field.  That’s an impressive range, by the way.  But if you plan to watch the quidditch matches, I recommend you sit on the top benches in the back and bring Sasha.  That way you’ll be prepared should something happen and it often does.”  
          “Yes, ma’am.”  
          “Now, tell me about the injuries.”  
          “What?”  
          “The other student injuries, what did you feel while you were on the ground?”  
          “Oh, uh,” Holly thought back.  “Well, there was a sharp pain in my arms, here—” she pointed to a spot below her elbow “and one higher up on my shoulder.”   
          Madam Pomfrey nodded.  “That’s Miss MacKenzie’s broken arm.  And the other side would be Mr. Finnegan’s wrenched shoulder.”  
          “And then my knee…”  
          “Mr. O’Toole landed on his knee dislocating it…”    
          “And then my stomach was like on fire.”   
          “That would be Miss Ross; she got rammed in the stomach with a broomstick.”   
          “And then my body felt like somebody had been pounding all over it…”   
          “There were a whole stack of minor cuts and bruises from the other students…  when did the pain leave?”  
          “Um, after I started focusing on Sasha’s purr.”    
          “Right.”  Madam Pomfrey gently lifted Sasha off Holly’s lap.  “Now.  I want you to try something.  Can you feel the other students?”   
          “Yes.  But they don’t hurt so much.”   
          “That’s because they are already on the mend.  Can you tell me which injury is where?”   
          Holly closed her eyes and concentrated.  Finally, she shook her head.  “No,” she said.  “It’s just a blur of pain all around me.”   
          “That’s O.K.,” said Madam Pomfrey easily.  “Just keep working on it.”  She returned Sasha to Holly.  “Why don’t you lie down and rest for a while.  When your friends return, you can go with them.  You shouldn’t need to return tomorrow.  How about next Monday, instead.”    
          Holly nodded then she lay down on the bed.  She really was quite tired...

********************

         Becky and Mark returned for Holly.  The three took off for dinner.  Along the way Becky and Mark told Holly about their tea with Hagrid.   “He was really sorry to hear you were hurt,” began Becky.  “So he invited us back again next week.  That way you could come too.”  
          “I saved you a biscuit,” said Mark.  “Here.”  He pulled out a lump of light brown stuff the size of a hockey puck and handed it to Holly.  “Careful,” he warned.  “Darn near broke my teeth on mine.”  Holly quickly pocketed the biscuit without eating it.  Mark continued talking.  “Hagrid had a huge bucket of skutworms—”  
          “Creepy maggoty things with huge pincers for mouths!” cut in Becky shivering at the mere mention of them.  
          “He was feeding his new baby pet, a spitting monitor lizard,” continued Mark.  
          “Deep emerald green with a bright orange and red belly—only about a foot long,” added Becky.  “They’re supposed to be rather common with yellow bellies but Hagrid said the orange-bellied ones are rare.  He was really excited to have it.  It looked really cute.”   
          “Cute, right,” put in Mark,  “until it started spitting!  Look at my shirt!”  He pulled out his shirt for Holly to examine.  The shirt was full of tiny little holes.  “That thing spit out acid!!!” he complained.   
          Becky giggled.  “Maybe you shouldn’t try to pick it up while it’s facing you!”  Then she was serious.  “Hagrid said it isn’t going to get very large.  But I’ve read about regular monitor lizards in school.  They can get as big as crocodiles and alligators!”   
          Mark snorted.  “Hagrid probably thinks a 3 meter long lizard _is_ small…”  
          Holly laughed.  “You’re probably right,” she said.  By this time they had reached the Great Hall and went in for dinner.

********************

          Holly attended her first official Hufflepuff House meeting on Friday afternoon.  The Hufflepuffs apparently met once a week to discuss anything of interest to the group as a whole.  At this meeting, the quidditch team members were announced.  Everyone heartily cheered the names.  The dates and times of quidditch practice was also announced and anyone with free time was encouraged to watch and cheer them on.  Prefect Gwen announced another wand practice Saturday after lunch for interested students and Prefect Ben handed out the next week’s homework assignments for Professor Binns' classes so students could get an early start on it.   
          “Professor Longbottom tells me he will be cleaning out the green house tomorrow in case anyone would like to help.”  Gwen looked over at Susan when she spoke.  “He said he saw a lot of bugs there earlier.” Susan Breysburry smiled happily at the news.  By now it was pretty obvious to everyone that Susan liked bugs. She was rarely without an insect of some sort.  And when she wasn’t watching live insects in action, she was reading about them or drawing them.  The Slytherins had given up trying to harass Susan after she eagerly caught the cicada some Slytherin boy had snuck into her bag to scare her and proudly displayed it for the rest of the day.   
          “…and about the Slytherins…” continued Gwen.  “It seems as if they are up to their usual ways of bullying and harassment and have gotten an early start on it this year.  Complaining to the teachers only makes them worse.  We can’t change the nature of Slytherins so the best way to avoid trouble with the Slytherins is to travel in groups—especially you First years,” Gwen looked at Holly directly.  “I know you missed the first meeting, Holly, but the Slytherins sometimes act like a pack of wolves circling around trying to find the weakest students.  When they find someone they think is vulnerable they proceed to make his or her life misery.  Now I said this before and I will say it again, the best way to avoid harassment is to travel in groups.  I know you have to make special trips to the hospital to meet with Madam Pomfrey, but you can’t do it alone, Holly.”   
          “But—” began Holly.   
          “No buts, Holly,” said Gwen sternly.  “Richards has already marked you as easy prey and he’s likely to try something whenever he finds you alone.  We don’t want a repeat of Monday night.”  
          “You know about Monday night?” said Holly, astonished.  She hadn’t said a word about that to anyone.  
          “Of course we do,” said Ben.  “That’s our job.  We look out for each other and keep each other safe.  Prefects have a lot of extra power and the Slytherin Prefects tend to abuse that power.  Now we’re not saying you _have_ to travel in groups but around here students who travel in groups are less likely to be harassed by the Slytherins.  So it’s the safe thing to do.  You can’t count on a Gryffindor popping up to the rescue next time.  So be careful and be safe.”   
          “O.K.”  
          “Now,” concluded Gwen.  “Does anyone have anything else to add?”   
          Becky punched Holly lightly in the shoulder.  “Come on,” she whispered encouragingly.  “Tell them.  It’ll be O.K.,” she assured Holly.  
          “Yeah,” whispered Mark on the other side.  “Tell them.”  
          “Uh, I do,” said Holly hesitantly.  All eyes turned to Holly expectantly.  Holly took a deep breath.  “It’s about that Gryffindor…”  
          “The Potter boy?  What about him?”  
          “He’s uh, my cousin.”   
          “WHAT?”    
          Everyone started talking at once.  “Since when?”   
          “James doesn’t have any cousins—not from Muggle parents.”   
          Even with Sasha on her lap purring loudly, Holly could feel waves of disbelief surround her.  It was overwhelming.  Holly wilted under its pressure.  She began to sob quietly.  This was what she had been afraid of.  
          “Lighten up everybody,” spoke up Mark defensively.  “She’s an Empath, remember?”  
          “Well, it’s a pretty outlandish thing for her to say,” said Rupert Shunpike, a fifth year student.   
          “Not necessarily,” spoke out a deep voice.  
          “What do you mean, Roland?” asked Stephen Willits.  Stephen was a big seventh year student and his voice was even deeper than Roland’s.  
          “Well,” began Roland DeWitt, “Holly doesn’t strike me as an attention-seeking liar.  And it would explain why the Potter boy walked Holly almost all the way back to the dorms.  They had something to say to each other besides “hello.”   
          “But cousins?  Honestly!” chimed in Rupert’s younger brother, Eddie.  He was a third year.  
          “I do seem to recall reading that Harry Potter went to live with his Muggle aunt and uncle after his parents died.” mused Steve.  Several of the other older students nodded in agreement.  “Maybe they had family…”  
          Roland asked Holly directly, “Your grandparents Harry Potter’s Aunt and Uncle?”  Holly gulped and nodded, afraid to look up but thankful that somebody might finally believe her.  “Then,” he concluded firmly, “she and James are definitely cousins, second cousins, to be sure but cousins all the same.”  The disbelief in the room faded.  Holly could breath normally again.   
          “But, I don’t understand,” began Clayton Eggleton, a forth year student.  “Even with Muggles as parents, surely Harry Potter would have known, and the Ministry of Magic would have been watching…why the late admission to school?”   
          Holly took another deep breath and began to explain what little she knew of the situation—how apparently her family had been magically hidden over 20 years ago from Lord Voldemort (everyone drew in a deep breath at the mention of that name) and only recently reconnected with Harry Potter.  
          “I didn’t know I had a cousin named Harry Potter until last week when I woke up in the hospital.  And I don’t think he knew about me either,” concluded Holly.  
          “Well,” said Gwen sitting back in her chair.  “That is quite a story but I’m glad you told us.  It explains a lot.  I’m sorry we gave you a bit of a bad time there.”  The whole group nodded.  
          “But if they really are your cousins,” voiced Julie Ross, another first year student, “why weren’t they there to greet you when you arrived?  Are they ashamed of you or something?”  
          Holly turned and looked at Julie directly  “Oh, I don’t know,” she said sarcastically, “new kid on the block, from a Muggle family, knows nothing about wizards and such, arrives a week late, these complete strangers come walking up saying “Hi ya, Cuz…” and suddenly I’m the subject of all sorts of whispers and finger pointing behind my back all because I’m related to some famous person I'd never heard of before and barely met three days earlier…  Frankly,” she continued, “I’m glad they didn’t.”   
          There was complete silence at this.  
          Then Gwen stood up.  “You’re right, Holly,” she said.  “We have been rather rude to the Potters and we should apologize.  And we certainly wouldn’t want that to happen to you.  As far as I’m concerned, you are Holly Wycliff, not Holly Potter.”  
          There came a chorus of “hear, hear,” and with that the group broke up.  
          “You really got to go shopping with Harry Potter?” asked Susan catching up with Holly after the meeting.  “That must have been exciting.”  
          “It would have been much more exciting had I known he was famous at the time.  Mostly, I was worried about going to a wizard school,” responded Holly.   
          “So what was he like?”  
          “Cousin Harry?”  
          “Yes,” said Susan eagerly.  
          “I don’t know,” replied Holly.  “He seemed pretty normal, I guess.  He didn’t talk much and was very polite.  He was not at all what I’d expect from somebody who is supposed to be famous.”   
          Susan nodded knowingly.  “That’s what everyone else who has met him says about Harry Potter.  I just couldn’t believe it was really true.”

********************

         The next week went much smoother especially since Holly knew the ropes and location of each class.  With the help of Becky and Rupert, Holly fashioned a small bag that she could wear on her back like a backpack so Sasha could ride along with her during Broomstick practice.  The students were much more sedate with their broomsticks than during the previous week.  Madam Hootch had set up an elaborate obstacle course.  It was a complicated path of loops turns, tunnels, high and low places.   
          “This course is designed for proficiency on a broom.  When you are more familiar with the course,” informed Madam Hootch, “I’ll be raising it higher off the ground. When you can run this course without falling or touching anything and do it in under 10 minutes, then you graduate from this class. Today,” she told the class, “we will not be timing anyone.  We will just practice taking the course.  If you fall, go back to the beginning and start again.  If you hit another student you have to start again.”  
          One by one the students lined up to try the course.  It was a challenge for everyone.  Most of the students, Holly included, inched their way through the course trying hard not to fall.  The better students had to dodge around the slow ones while staying on the course.  There were lots of spills and falls, but the course was low to the ground so no one was seriously hurt.  No one had finished the course by the time Madam Hootch blew her whistle and declared the class ended.  
         “Hey, Holly,” said Albus catching up with her as they left the class.  Holly halted.  Though they knew each other by names, Albus had never before talked to Holly directly.  “Can we tag along with you to Hagrid’s for tea?”   
          “Uh, sure, I guess.”  Holly looked at Becky and Mark for confirmation.  They both nodded in agreement.  “If it’s OK with Hagrid.”   
          “Oh, he won’t mind,” said Albus cheerfully.  “He always has plenty of food and loves the company.  Besides I already asked him and he said it was “O.K.” as long as it was "O.K." with you.”  So the five, Albus, Rose, Becky, Mark and Holly walked over to Hagrid’s hut for tea.  
          “Have you seen Hagrid’s new spitting monitor lizard?” Albus asked Mark excitedly.   
          “Uh, yeah,” replied Mark...  Soon the two were deep in conversation comparing notes about spit holes in their clothes and guessing what else the acid would dissolve.   
          Becky happily showed off her new wand to Rose who had noticed that Becky had a different wand and wanted to hear all about Becky’s trip with Hagrid to London.  Holly contentedly listened in to the conversations soaking up the pleasant emotions that swirled around her.  
           Hagrid was indeed expecting all five and already had five huge mugs waiting to be filled with tea.  Holly and the others squished themselves in two huge chairs and related all the news of the week.  Hagrid listened with interest while he pulled out some large lumpy looking biscuits and gave them to the students.   
          Rose quickly pocketed her biscuit.  “They work great as air purifiers—especially in potions class,” she whispered to Holly. Holly smiled and quietly put her biscuit away in a pocket too.  They sure could have used one of these during potions yesterday.   
          They had been trying to mix a basic sleeping potion when Susan’s concoction suddenly erupted sending an explosion of muddy lime green foam throughout the classroom.  The stuff landed in the cauldrons of other students causing a chain reaction of other explosions throughout the room.  When the explosions stopped, the smell had started.  The cooling foam sent up a stench so foul that it sent the students fleeing outside.   
          Only Holly had managed to turn in a completed potion.  (Much to Professor Slughorn’s delight—5 House points for Hufflepuff.)  Holly had sat in the far side of the room.  She managed to cover her cauldron with her body when the explosions started.  Then she calmly finished bottling and handing in her potion before the stench had driven her out.  
          Of course, Holly’s robe and clothes got covered with gunk and she didn’t have time to change before her next period.  This enabled the Slytherins to make several snide comments about Holly’s appearance and smell during Charms.  Professor Flitwick was angry about the disruption.  He took away 5 House points from all the students involved.  Hufflepuff lost 5 (Holly) and Slytherins lost 10 (both Anthony Richards and Scorpius Malfoy could be heard making nasty comments.)  
          When the tea was finished, the students moved outside to watch the Spitting Monitor lizard.  Hagrid had named it Cuddles.  The lizard was lying in a patch of swampy muck that Hagrid had made especially for it and was anything but cuddly.  The lizard had more than doubled its size in a single week.  Mark and Albus tried their hand at feeding it while dodging great gobs of spit while everyone else watched.  Rose stood a safe distance away and pulled out a bottle of SKIN GROW just in case the spit landed on someone.  Seeing how the spit kept on flying and leaving smoking holes in the ground and nearby trees, Holly and Becky soon joined Rose preferring the safety of distance over a good view.  
          James came by with his friend, Lawrence Prescott, and joined them after their classes ended for the day.  Lawrence was a bit shorter than James but just as slender. He had light brown hair and blue eyes. They were in time to help the group feed the Thestrals.  Everyone helped fill some buckets with raw meat and then followed Hagrid into the forest.   
          James pulled Holly to the back of the line for a quiet word while they walked. “What did you say to the Hufflepuffs?” he asked.  “I’ve had three of them come up to me this week and apologize.  I’m not sure what they were apologizing for.”  
          “I didn’t say anything,” said Holly.  “I just told them you were my cousin.  And they decided they had been rather rude to point and whisper behind your back.”  
          “Oh,” said James.  “Thanks.  Uh, have you ever seen a Thestral eat?” he said changing the subject.  
          “No,” replied Holly.  She didn’t even know what a Thestral was.  They had reached a clearing in the forest and were watching Hagrid place pieces of raw meat on the ground.  
          “Me neither,” said James with a laugh.  “And that’s the way it should be.  Look!” he commanded directing her attention to the meat.  To Holly’s amazement, bits of meat lifted into the air only to vanish.  “They’re invisible!”  James said with delight.  In silence the group watched the Thestrals feed.  Or, rather, they watched the meat vanish piece by piece.  When the meat was all gone, it was time to return to the school.

********************

**_Dear Holly,_ **

Laurel stopped.  This was not a letter she wanted to write but Dillon had been adamant.  How to put this without sounding cold-hearted… 

**_Your father and I love you very much and have enjoyed hearing from you._**

That was true.  Holly had sent three letters so far and they had eagerly read every word.  It was the owls that seemed to bother Dillon.  Whenever an owl arrived, and it was such a tiny thing, Dillon would flinch and cringe.  Laurel would have to retrieve its message and attach any reply to the owl’s leg.  Once the owl had flown off Dillon would be back to his cheerful self as if nothing had happened.  But Dillon had gotten increasingly agitated with the arrival of each owl finally forcing Laurel to write this letter.  
          Laurel didn’t mention it to Dillon but Holly’s letters home were a bit strange.  Here she was attending a school of witchcraft and wizarding and not one word in any of Holly’s letters reflected this.  Her second letter mentioned a tea she attended with her friends at Professor Hagrid’s house where they got to feed the Professor’s pet lizard.  (Dillon had blanched a bit at the name Hagrid.  Did Dillon know Hagrid?)  Holly said she met her other cousins, James and Albus, and their cousin Rose; she said they seemed nice enough.  In her last letter Holly described a school Quidditch match.  Her house, the Hufflepuffs, had made a spectacular win when a member of their team had snatched the golden ball just in the nick of time winning the game.  
          Laurel had gotten suspicious after the second letter and decided to try her new journal to Harry Potter.  _Did you tell Holly to not talk about wizard things in her letters home?_   She asked.   
          The reply was brief.  _Tell—no, suggest, yes._  
          This prompted another message to the Potters. _What classes is Holly taking?_ The reply was equally brief _: Potions, Astrology, Herbology, The History of Magic, Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense against the Dark Arts._ After studying the list, Laurel decided maybe it _was_ best Holly not describe what she was learning in her classes.  
          But it was his parents that worried Dillon so much.  They were coming home in a few days and Dillon was adamant they not know about Holly attending Hogwarts.  “So don’t tell them!” was Laurel’s response.  But that wasn’t enough.  Dillon was afraid an unexpected arrival of an owl would give the secret away.  
          “No one else but Hogwarts uses owls!” he assured Laurel.  The two had gone round and round about this problem with Laurel seeking other solutions—maybe they could set up specific times and days or locations to insure his parents weren’t around when an owl arrived—anything—but Dillon was just too afraid.  Dillon’s parents seemed like such nice people; surely Dillon was blowing all this out of proportion.  Laurel had even tried to consult Harry Potter concerning the matter but he only replied _Dillon knows his parents best._   Hence, the letter.

 **_Unfortunately, your grandparents are arriving home from their cruise shortly.  They apparently do not approve_**  
**_of Hogwarts or anything related to it.  Your father is afraid that an unexpected arrival of an owl in their presence_**  
_**might create all sorts of difficulties and has requested that you not send us any more mail for the time being.**_

            There.  She had written it.  Laurel felt as if she had just cut off her hand in doing it.  How could she bear to not hear from Holly?  How could Dillon?  But he had insisted on the letter and now stood over her while she wrote it; he looked positively sick the whole time.  

 **_We still love you very much and look forward to your visit during the holidays._**  
**_Love,_**  
_**Mum and Dad** _

          Laurel rolled the letter up and placed it in the waiting talons of the tiny owl in front of her.  “Holly Wycliff,” she whispered.  And the owl flew off.

********************

          Holly read the letter again before folding it up.  Her grandparents?  But they were so nice.  How could they not—then she remembered how she had worried mum and dad wouldn’t love her if she became a witch and that panicked question dad had asked Harry Potter in the car about what to tell his parents.  Apparently it wasn’t a joke at all when Mr. Potter had suggested dad not mention the name of the school.   
          “What’s wrong?” asked Mark noting the solemn look on Holly’s face.  Holly silently handed him the letter.  Mark read it quickly.  “That’s rough,” he said as he passed the letter on to the next person at the table, Julie Ross.  “Does that mean they won’t write to you either?”  Holly shook her head silently.  She didn’t know but doubted they would write.  She would miss their letters terribly.  
          “What kind of grandparents are they?” chimed in Julie after reading the letter.  “Don’t they love you?”  Julie handed the letter to Becky.  
          “I thought so,” mumbled Holly.  Maybe love wasn’t enough.  
          “But how can they do that?” said Becky after she had read the letter passing it on down the table.  “Your parents—that’s like cutting you off, totally.”  
          “Not totally,” added Rupert showing the letter to the next person.  “They still want to see you for the holidays…”  
          “But it’s so weird,” said Donna.  “I’ve never heard of such a thing.  Have you?”  She handed the letter to Ben.   
          “Actually, I have," said Ben after he read the letter. "Sort of.”   
          “Me too,” agreed Roland when he looked at the letter.  “I’ve heard that sometimes wizard families are so ashamed when someone in their family is born without wizard skills that they hide that person away in the Muggle world and deny he or she even exists.  I suppose the reverse can happen too.”   
          “Ashamed,” thought Holly.  Were her grandparents ashamed?  It could explain why they had never heard of Mr. Potter.  
          “But it’s the grandparents, not the parents,” said Gwen, handing the letter back to Holly.  “There must be _something_ we can do.”  
          “I’ve an idea,” said Becky excitedly.  “Just let me check with my parents first…”

********************

          Seven days later Laurel went to her mailbox and pulled out a rather bulky letter.  It was hand addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Wycliff.  The return address indicated the letter was from a Mr. and Mrs. Charles Smith.  Laurel didn’t know any Smiths.  Intrigued, she opened the letter.  There was a second letter within the first.  Laurel’s heart skipped a beat when she recognized the handwriting on the second letter.  It was Holly’s!  With trembling fingers Laurel opened the letter.

**_Dear Mum and Dad,_**

_**Mr. and Mrs. Smith are the parents of my best friend Becky.  They are not wizards.**_  
_**If you want to write me, you can send the letter to them and they will forward it on to**_  
_**me at Hogwarts.  I will do the same.**_

_**I love you and can’t wait to see you during the holidays.** _

_**Holly**_         

          Laurel could feel the tears streaming down her face.  Her clever, wonderful  Holly had found a solution to their problem!  She folded the letter and returned it to the envelope.  She couldn’t wait to show Holly’s letter to Dillon when he got home.  Then Laurel went back inside the house to write a long letter to Holly.

********************

          The days in October slipped by easily.  Holly had her friends and her family.  School became a matter of routine.  Holly now knew the classes and teachers.  While not particularly great in potions, Professor Slughorn seemed pleased every time Holly got a potion right.   
               Holly took to practicing regularly in the Defense Against the Dark Arts practice room.  She got Mark and Becky to join her.  Holly often saw Professor Lovegood hanging from the skeleton reading and trio stopped regularly to look at the motionless painting outside the door.  Becky liked it too.  Soon other Hufflepuffs made their way to the room to practice.  Their efforts showed during class exercises, much to the dismay of the Slytherins, who constantly sought excuses to belittle the Hufflepuffs.  Holly took special care to keep out of the way of Slytherins.   
          Broomstick practice had become much easier—most of the better students quickly passed the course leaving the slower, more cautious students to continue their practice.  Albus passed early but he often joined the group with his friend, Taylor O’Donnell, to keep the slower Gryffindors company and because they both loved an excuse to fly.  Holly and Becky both continued to make progress on their brooms but it was clear neither would become expert fliers.   
          Holly loved to visit Hagrid’s hut and watch the lizard grow.  The relative isolation of his hut made it a perfect place free of invading emotions enabling Holly to relax and giving Sasha a chance to play.  
          Becky talked Holly into joining the school choir.  Professor Flitwick had heard them singing in the hall after class one day and told them he needed more students for the choir.  Becky had apparently sung at her last school and was eager to do more.  Holly had never before sung in public but after one day in practice, she was hooked.  Fifteen singing students united in common purpose and sound felt positively exhilarating.  Holly never needed Sasha on her shoulder during choir practice.  Their first performance would be for the school Halloween party traditionally held Halloween evening.  
          Holly’s only problem was her failure to get a direction with her emotions.  Madam Pomfrey refused to let Holly advance to blocking emotions until Holly could sense their origins.  Try as she might, Holly just couldn’t get the hang of it.  She finally took the problem to a Hufflepuff House meeting after which the other Hufflepuff students took to jabbing themselves unexpectedly with pins and challenging Holly to discover who had been jabbed.  Though Holly could tell someone had been jabbed, she still couldn’t tell whom.  But occasionally, she guessed right.  
          One afternoon Albus came up to Holly after Herbology class with a serious look on his face.  “Uh, Holly,” he said.  “We’re holding a family memorial service on Halloween right after the program and we’d really like you to be there too.  Can you come?”   
          Holly thought.  Family memorial?  For whom?  And why include her?  But she was free so she said.  “Yeah, I guess.  Sure.”   
          Albus’s face brightened.  “Thanks,” he said.   
          Then Holly asked.  “When and where?”  
          “In front of the Defense Against the Dark Arts room—right after your last song.”  Albus replied.  “Gotta go.  See you there,” he sang out as he ran off to his next class.   
          In front of the Defense Against the Dark Arts room?  What an odd place to hold a memorial service.

********************

          Holly had a wonderful time at the Hogwarts Halloween party.  The ghosts turned up and mingled with the students.  The hall tables had all sorts of food:  huge chocolate spider cakes, mud cookies, wand shaped breadsticks…  on each end was a large cauldron full of bubbling blood colored punch… for once the décor fit the occasion.     
          The school choir performed 6 songs, all with appropriate spooky topics.  The one that drew the most applause was the final song, sung with harmonizing notes of four wailing ghosts that joined the choir for the occasion.  When the singing ended, Holly grabbed a mug of punch and a quick bite to eat.  Then she saw Albus and Rose standing to one side waving at her so she scooped up Sasha and hurried over to join them.  Together they walked to the Defense Against the Dark Arts room.  
          James was waiting for them at the entrance of the Defense Against the Dark Arts room.  He carried a small bag.  “Right,” he said.  “We’re all here.  Are you ready?”   
          Rose and Albus nodded solemnly.  All three of them looked at the painting of Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort.  Holly looked too.  James pulled out his wand and pointed at the painting.  In a commanding voice and a wave of his wand and he repeated the words beneath the painting.

_“Sometimes you’ve got to think about more than your own safety!  Sometimes you’ve got to think about the greater good.”_

          To Holly’s immense surprise, the painting was actually a sort of door that swung open revealing a room beyond.  The four of them walked inside.  The painting swung back like a door closing the opening behind them.  Sasha jumped off Holly’s shoulder and walked ahead.  
          The room was a semi circle; the back wall curved to meet the sides next to the opening.  It was softly lit.  The back wall had a lavender colored bottom which, while they watched, gradually turned dark purple then to midnight blue.  That blue blended into the black of night.  On the walls were flecks of silver and gold that seemed to flash and twinkle at random like the twinkling stars at night.  Over the gold and silver flecks were the words:  _IN MEMORANDUM_ , written gold.  Entranced, Holly moved forward and looked closer at the wall.  The flecks were actually names!  Hundreds of them—all sparkling, changing from silver to gold to silver, shining brightly against the dark background.   
          Holly reached up high and touched one of the names.  Immediately, a shaft of gold light shot out of the name.  Holly jumped back in surprise.  The shaft of light stopped just above Holly’s head and formed the figure of a person.  It was a lady in wizard robes with a broad, square-jaw and very short gray hair.  She adjusted her monocle and looked sternly out at Holly.  Beneath the person Holly read the words _Amelia Susan Bones_.  Beneath it was a date.  The figure pivoted in a slow circle and then vanished in a shower of stars.  Holly touched another name.  A handsome young man shot out of the light he waved as he pivoted in front of her.  Beneath it was the name _Dirk Cresswell_ and a year.   
          “Hey, this one doesn’t move,” shouted Albus.  Holly turned to look.  Both Albus and Rose were pressing names also and watching the figures appear in front of them.  Holly looked again at the wall.  _Colin Creevy_?  She knew that name from somewhere…  Then she saw another name and froze, _Cedric Diggory_ …   
          “Remus Lupin?” Albus’ voice spoke out again.  “That’s Ted’s dad isn’t it?”  
          “Uncle Fred’s name is on the wall…” Rose spoke uncertainly.  They all slowly turned to James, who had been standing quietly behind them, waiting.  “Are these all names,” began Rose, putting to words what the three of them had begun to realize, “of people that Volde—” her voice trembled, “Voldemort killed?”  
           James nodded solemnly.  “Or his supporters,” he confirmed.   
          Holly shivered.  The room no longer seemed a clear evening night with twinkling stars above, but a black tomb weighed down by the ghosts and names of the dead.  “So many people,” she whispered.   
          “Lord Voldemort was not a nice guy,” said James.  
          “I don’t think I like this place,” spoke up Albus.  Holly looked at Albus and Rose.  Both of them had tears streaming down their faces.  She, too, felt close to tears.   
          James turned to the other side of the door.  “Look,” he said directing their attention to a parchment posted on the wall next to a group photograph.  The parchment was labeled _Dumbledore’s Army_.  James used his wand and touched the name _Dumbledore’s_.  Immediately gold colored words shot out into space in front of them.  Holly, Rose and Albus read:  _A group of students organized by Harry Potter to practice defensive magic to be used against Lord Voldemort and his followers._   The words vanished.  The four studied the parchment.  
          “There’s dad’s name,” said James pointing out the signature of Harry Potter.   
          “And mum’s,” piped up Albus pointing to another.   
          “And look,” said Rose pointing eagerly to two other signatures.  “That’s mum and dad!  And Uncle Fred and George…”   
          Even Holly saw a few names she recognized.  Nevil Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Colin Creevy…  One name had been scratched out and she couldn’t read it.   
          “This is what we’re really here for,” said James.  He pointed to the group photo posted next to the parchment.  Above it was the label _Order of the Phoenix_.  He placed his wand on the title and again words jumped out in space to be read:  _A Group of Wizards organized by Albus Dumbledore to fight against Lord Voldemort and his followers._     
          “Look,” he said pointing to some people in the photo.  “There’s Professor Longbottom’s parents!”  
          “Oh,” said Rose moving up for a closer look.  “They look so young.”  
          “And happy!” added Albus.   
          “There’s Professor Hagrid,” continued James pointing again.  “And Albus Dumbledore.  You were named after him, Albus.”  Albus and Rose peered eagerly at the photo showing an elderly wizard with a long white beard.  Holly remembered seeing his portrait in the Headmistress’s office.  “There, that’s Remus Lupin, Ted’s dad,” continued James pointing to another person.  He nudged some of the people in the photo and they moved aside to let others into view.   
          “Look here,” he pointed to two people who had just moved into view.  “That’s grandpa James Potter sitting there,” Albus moved up for a closer look.  “And sitting over there is Grandma Lily.”   
_Lily!!!_   Holly gave a start and looked more closely at the person James was pointing to.  The Lily in the portrait had long blonde hair and looked vaguely familiar.  She looked up and smiled at the photographer.  Wordlessly Holly looked up at James.   
          “Professor Hagrid says you look a lot like her,” said James.   
          James pulled out some candles; he handed one to each of them keeping one for himself.  Then he spoke to Albus.  “Go over to the flame and light your candle, please.”  He pointed to a niche on the other side of the door where Holly saw a single flame burning.  Holly read the inscription above the flame.  _Dedicated to those people, whose names we shall never know, who died because of Lord Voldemort and his followers._ Albus lit his candle and returned.James placed the lit candle upon the ledge beneath the photo.  Everyone watched the flame.  It flickered brightly lighting the smiling faces of James and Lily Potter.  
          “Every year, on Halloween, mum and dad light a candle in memory of Grandma and Grandpa Potter,” James explained.  “So I thought it would be appropriate for us to light a candle for them here too.”  Albus and Rose nodded.  “But what you probably don’t know, mostly because they never talk about it, is how they died and how those deaths affect all of us standing here tonight.”  James cleared his throat and looked over at each of the three first before speaking.  
          “Thirty years ago,” he began, “a very evil wizard was on the rise to power.  He called himself Lord Voldemort.  People who stood up to him usually got killed.  So the Order of the Phoenix was formed with the sole purpose of trying to stop Lord Voldemort.  Grandma and Grandpa Potter were members of it.”  James stopped talking for a moment and looked up at the photo of smiling people.  Then he added softly, “most of the people in this photo are dead now.”  
          James resumed his informative voice.  “On October 31, 1981, Lord Voldemort came to the Potter house…  When the smoke cleared.  James and Lily Potter were dead.  But their one-year old son, Harry, was found still alive.  What’s more, Lord Voldemort was nowhere to be seen.  People all over the wizard world rejoiced that the reign of terror was finally over.  They celebrated because Harry Potter had obviously taken a killing curse and not only survived but somehow defeated Lord Voldemort.  That’s when he got that scar on his forehead.”  
          Holly thought about this.  “I don’t understand,” she began interrupting his narrative.  “If Cousin Harry defeated Lord Voldemort when he was age one, how come, well, what about the Hogwarts battle?”     
          James nodded.  “I don’t exactly know what happened but they were obviously mistaken about Voldemort being dead.  Harry went to live with his only surviving relatives, his Muggle aunt and uncle.”  He looked at Holly.  “Your Grandparents,” he said speaking to her directly.   
          Then James continued his narrative.  “When dad reached age eleven, he attended Hogwarts.  He met Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione that first year, Rose’s parents,” he added for Holly’s benefit, “and they became best friends.  Uncle Ron said people used to point and whisper behind dad’s back and call him “ _the boy who lived.”_  
          In dad’s fourth year Hogwarts hosted the Triwizard Tournament,” James continued.  “Lord Voldemort supporters used the tournament as an opportunity to capture dad and use him in some weird nasty ritual to create a new body.”  Here James digressed from his story.  “That’s the only time I could find that dad ever spoke in public about his experiences with Lord Voldemort.  I found an interview he gave in the _Quibbler_.  It’s pretty scary reading.  Anyway,” he continued, “Lord Voldemort apparently tried to kill dad again but somehow dad got away.  Unfortunately, people didn’t believe that Lord Voldemort had returned.  At least that’s what the _Daily Prophet_ said.  So dad and the other students formed _Dumbledore’s Army_ to combat him. _”_   James paused to catch his breath.   
          “By the end of dad’s fifth year people were finally convinced Lord Voldemort had returned but they couldn’t catch him let alone stop him.  After dad’s sixth year the Ministry of Magic started issuing all sorts of anti-Muggle laws.  Wizards with Muggle parents were rounded up and thrown in prison along with their families.  Only students of pureblood wizard parents were permitted to attend Hogwarts.  People just disappeared.  Others were found brutally murdered and the murderers never caught…  The _Daily Prophet_ said that Dad was wanted for questioning in the death of the Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, but mum says that was just an excuse to lock dad up.  It’s pretty clear the Ministry of Magic was under the control of Lord Voldemort during this time.  
          Dad, Uncle Ron, and Aunt Hermione went into hiding.  I talked to mum about that.  She said the three had been planning on it for some time.  Uncle Ron got the house ghoul to dress up in his clothes.  The ghoul pretended he was Uncle Ron with a bad case of spattergroit.  Aunt Hermione sent her Muggle parents to Australia with modified memories so they couldn’t be found and wouldn’t miss her if she died…”  James paused and looked at Holly, as if waiting for something.   
          Holly cleared her throat and added another piece to the story.  “My grandparents were given new identities,” she said softly.  “They were protected with all sorts of magical spells to keep them safe from Lord Voldemort.”   
          James nodded.  “I figured as much,” he said.  “It was the only time things like that were done.”  He cleared his throat and continued.  “There isn’t much to say after that.  While Lord Voldemort was in charge, people went into hiding, went missing, were arrested and thrown into jail or flat out died.  All the while there were wanted posters out on dad.  Mum went to Hogwarts at that time.  She says it was a pretty grim place.  Over half the students were gone and the remainders were mostly Slytherins.  Unforgivable curses were used as punishment and the classes were full of anti-Muggle propaganda.  Mum and the rest of the family had to go into hiding after Easter when the Death Eaters finally figured out Uncle Ron was with dad.  At the end of the school year, dad, Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione returned to Hogwarts.  There was this big battle and, well, you know what happened then.”   
          James was quiet for a minute.  Then he finished his narrative saying, “All our lives are bound up in the actions of Lord Voldemort and that started with the death of James and Lily Potter.”  They all watched the flame burning steadily lighting up the smiling faces of James and Lily Potter.   
          Then Rose spoke up.  “Wherever you are, whatever you are, we remember you James and Lily Potter and wish you well.”  She lifted her candle, lit it and placed it next to the first.   
          James and Holly lit theirs as well placing them next to Rose’s candle.  They stood together quietly watching the four flames burning brightly in the dark room.  Then they left leaving the burning candles behind.

********************

          It was fairly late by the time they finished their memorial ceremony.  James, Albus and Rose walked with Holly to the Hufflepuff tower before parting company.   
          “Thank you for inviting me,” Holly said softly.   
          “We’re glad you came,” replied James.  The others nodded in agreement.   
          “Good-bye,” said Rose with a smile.  
          “Yeah, see you later, Holly,” said Albus.  
          Holly walked slowly up the stairs to her dormitory.  She had a lot to think about.  The angry face in the courtroom painting met her and gruffly asked “Password?”   
          Holly thought.  She couldn’t think of anything funny to say.  Then she remembered what Gwen had said about descriptions.  She gathered her thoughts and softly said. “I saw the most beautiful room tonight.  It was all velvety dark and filled with gold and silver lights that twinkled like stars.  I could almost hear the crickets chirping.  But then I realized all those stars were really names of people, ever so many people, real people not just names.  And all those people died because of Lord Voldemort and, and it was so sad.”   
          The face in the painting began to cry.  He pulled out a handkerchief and brought it to his eyes.  Soon the whole courtroom joined in, crying, reflecting Holly’s own feelings.  The portrait swung open.  “Go on in,” sobbed the face wiping the tears from his face.  “You need some cheering up.”  
          “Thank you,” whispered Holly and she stepped inside.

 


	9. Chapter 9

          Something wasn’t right.  It was the day after Halloween and Holly felt something was off the moment she stepped into the Great Hall for breakfast.  It took a while to pin down her feelings and even then she wasn’t sure.  It was more of an absence rather a presence.  “Something’s wrong,” she muttered to Becky.   
          “Huh?”  Becky replied.  “What’s wrong?”  
          “I don’t know,” answered Holly.  “Here,” she commanded.  “Take Sasha.”  Becky picked up Sasha and Holly stepped back.  Immediately the cocoon of warmth Sasha provided vanished.  Now the jumbled student emotions came in much more clearly.  Holly tried to sort them.  She couldn’t tell directions, but she could tell the feelings that were normally present.  Yes, she could feel the warmth of the Hufflepuffs nearby and the cool confidence of the Ravenclaws.  The Gryffindors were always a jumble of mixed emotions...   
          That was it!  The cold distain of the Slytherins was absent.  Holly looked over at their table.  The Slytherins were all seated eating their meal but she couldn’t feel their usual distain.  “It’s the Slytherins,” she announced.   
          “What?” asked Ben listening in.  “What’s up with the Slytherins?”   
          “I don’t know,” replied Holly thoughtfully.  “But it’s like—like they’re waiting for something.”   
          “You hear that everyone?” said Ben.  “The Slytherins are up to something.  Pass the word.  Keep a sharp lookout.  Stay in groups and stay safe!”  
          The feeling of anticipation continued throughout the day.  Not during Potions with the Ravenclaws, of course, but in Charms, the Slytherins were in an extraordinarily good mood.  Holly felt it the instant they walked into class.  It wasn’t just one or two students, but the whole group.  They didn’t even get angry when Mark got his feather to float first earning Hufflepuff another 3 House points.   
          The sense of anticipation remained during lunchtime and seemed even stronger.  The anticipation rubbed off on Holly.  Even with Sasha, Holly felt nervous and anxious the rest of the day waiting, wondering what would happen…  
          When Holly walked in for dinner the Slytherin emotions were so strong they crowded out the rest of the emotions in the Hall.   
          Ben saw Holly’s face and greeted her with concern.  “How’s it going?” he asked.   
          “Any time now,” said Holly sitting down.  “It’s like they’re about to burst.”   
          Ben started whispering to the other Hufflepuffs and the whole group braced themselves for whatever was about to happen.  Holly barely picked at her food.  The waiting, knowing and not knowing was unbearable.  Finally, after everyone had begun eating, and the noise in the Hall had quieted, Slytherin Prefect, Tom Richards, got up and sauntered towards the Gryffindor table.   
          “This is it!” muttered Holly anxiously her eyes following every motion of his swagger.  The rest of the Hufflepuffs looked up and watched too.  
          **“Hey Potter!”** Richards shouted loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear.  Both James and Albus looked up.  Everyone else in the hall turned to look too.  “You’ve been hanging around a lot with that Hufflepuff girl.”  James’s face went white.  “At first we all thought she was a bit too young for you,” continued Richards with a smirk noting the change in James’ face.  “Then it occurred to us that maybe it was something else, like maybe she’s some deep dark _Potter_ secret—some secret you Potters are ashamed to acknowledge…like maybe a _relative_ you’ve been hiding away…”   
          The whole room went dead quiet after that.  James shot out of his chair, wand extended, and turned to face Richards.  Before he could speak, another voice rang throughout the hall.  
          **“Oh, pul—eese!”** said a voice loud and clear.  It came from a Ravenclaw girl wearing a Prefect badge.  She had dark skin and long black hair that was fashioned in an elaborate cornrow design near her scalp and hung down below her shoulders in several braids.  Each braid had a bright colored bead dangling from its end.  All heads turned to look at her.   
          The girl continued speaking loud enough for everyone to hear.  “Holly Wycliff has been here nearly two months and it has only _now_ occurred to you that she and James Potter are cousins?  I thought you Slytherins were _smarter_ than that!  Yours must be the only House that _didn’t_ know.”  With that, all the Ravenclaw students returned their attention to their meals and resumed eating.  All the Hufflepuffs looked down and began eating.  The Gryffindors, taking their cue from the other Houses, looked down and started eating.  James turned and sat down without saying a word; he, too, started eating.  That left Tom Richards, standing, without an audience.   
          Immediately the sense of eager anticipation Holly had felt all day vanished to be replaced by surprise and resentment.  Richards returned to his table and sat down without another word.  Holly felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction throughout the Hall.  Suddenly hungry, she quickly finished her meal.   
          After dinner Holly saw the Ravenclaw Prefect walking off with Leila, the girl in Holly’s Potions class.  She hurried forward to meet them.   
          “This is Ravindra Vasari,” said Leila to Holly by way of introductions.  “She’s our Prefect.”   
          “I’m very happy to meet you,” said Holly.  “Thanks for what you said back there.”  
          “It was my pleasure,” said Ravindra with a smile.  The beads in her braids clinked musically as she tilted her head to look down at Holly.  “I’ve always wanted to take Richards down a couple of notches and this was too good an opportunity to miss.”  
          “But,” asked Holly, “how did you know?”  
          “You have been a puzzle to us, Miss Wycliff, since the day you arrived,” began Ravindra.  “We love a good puzzle.  You arrived a week late at dawn with Professor Hagrid.”   
          “Alyssa and Cassandra saw you come in from the tower window,” chimed in Leila.  
          “That, in itself, is pretty mysterious,” continued Ravindra.  “Then you said you were sick.  Wizard children are rarely sick but you had Muggle parents.  That’s really weird.  The Ministry of Magic notifies all children of Muggle parents about Hogwarts early in the summer so they have a chance to adjust to the idea.  With such advance notice you would have had plenty of time to get well and arrive to school on time.”   
          “Yet you didn’t,” added Leila.  “That means the Ministry of Magic didn’t notify your family on time.  Maybe it didn’t notify them at all!”   
          “It would take something really unusual for them to miss a wizard child,” explained Ravindra calmly.  “That implies some really powerful magic, but as you have Muggle parents they obviously weren’t the source of that magic.  The last time really, really powerful magic was used around here was during the time of Harry Potter.  Harry Potter had a Muggle aunt and uncle and Professor Hagrid is known to be a good friend of Harry Potter…”  
          “Also, Professor Slughorn keeps calling you "Lily" every time you get a potion right,” commented Leila.  “It must be really annoying.”  
          “We looked it up,” continued Ravindra.  “The only ‘Lily’ Professor Slughorn ever taught was Lily Evans, almost 40 years ago.  She married James Potter, father of Harry Potter...  Making the connection between you and James Potter was easy, really,” Ravindra finished cheerfully.  “Mind you,” she added, reaching over to pet Sasha, who perched contentedly on Holly’s shoulder. “Walking around with a cat on your shoulder is a dead giveaway for an Empath.”  Sasha reached out a paw and playfully batted one of Ravindra’s dangling braids.  “I hope you get your abilities under control before the Slytherins figure it out and come up with some way to use that knowledge.  They’re probably pretty ticked off right now.”  
          “They are,” agreed Holly glancing back towards the Slytherin table.  The Slytherins stood around with very unhappy looks on their faces and emotions to match.  Then she saw Becky and Mark by the wall waving to her.  “Well, I had better go.  Thanks again.”  
          “Any time.”

********************

          Holly and her friends met for tea at Hagrid’s together with the Potters and Rose a week later.  The group discussed the events after Halloween while sipping Hagrid’s version of hot chocolate, which looked right and was at least steaming hot.  Hagrid laughed heartily when he heard about the Slytherin attempt to embarrass and shame the Potters.   
          “Course,” he added, “shouldn’t have made no nevermind had ya stood up in front of th’ whole group and shouted that Miss Holly ‘ere was yer cousin.  She’s a right fine student and a credit to any family.”  Holly blushed at the compliment.  
          “I know that,” said James.  “But I promised Holly we wouldn’t say anything about that.  Besides, I was so mad that Richards implied Holly and I were dating that I couldn’t think what to say without making everything sound like some big dark secret.”   
          Hagrid snorted.  “Good thing Miss Vasari had a head on her shoulders and thought of a way to diffuse th’ situation without anyone gettin’ inta trouble.  Them Ravenclaws are sure smart.  How’d she know?”  Holly explained how Ravindra and the Ravenclaws had figured out they were cousins.  
          Albus laughed.  “They _are_ smart, aren’t they?  You know,” he said, “ _we_ didn’t tell the other Gryffindors you were our cousin.  So I guess that means the only House that didn’t know we were related was _ours!_   Not that we would ever admit that to the Slytherins.  Fortunately, the Gryffindors were all smart enough to go back to eating as if they had known all along which really took the wind out of Richards’ sails.”  
          “But we had a lot of explaining to do that night back in the dorms,” added Rose laughing too.   
          Hagrid warned them all to watch their step now that the plan had backfired and embarrassed the Slytherin instead.  
          “What would have happened?” asked Holly curiously, “had the news gotten out the way the Slytherins wanted?”  
          “Well,” said Hagrid pouring himself another mug of hot chocolate, “Harry’d have been right mad if James here were to get inta a fight, but about the news itself, not much.  Harry would have done what he’s always done, sat back quiet and let folks say what they will truth or lies.  He only speaks up if some great injustice were about ta happen.  That’s what he did with the Malfoys.”  
          “Scorpius’ parents?”  
          “Yup.  More chocolate, anyone?”  Everyone shook their heads politely and waited for Hagrid to continue his story.  “Well, everyone was all fer throwin’ the whole family inta Azkaban prison, especially as You-Know-Who was usin’ their home as headquarters.  But Harry Potter stood up in court an’ told ‘em that it weren’t their fault that Bellatrix, th’ most devoted of You-Know-Who’s followers, just happened to be Narcissa’s sister.  Then he said that the Malfoys had had a change o’ heart but couldn’t get out seein’ as how people who opposed You-Know-Who, tended ta end up dead.”  Hagrid finished his chocolate and then added.  “How he knew that is beyond me, but Harry, he always knew what was goin’ on w’ the Dark Lord.”   
          Hagrid put down his mug and continued.  “Anyway, Harry told the court that when th’ time came, the Malfoys did th’ right thing.  Mind you, his words surprised the heck otta ev’ry one especially seein’ how him and Draco, that’s Scorpius’ dad ya know, were the worst of enemies throughout all his days at Hogwarts.  But that’s Harry fer ya, he sticks up fer what’s right and don’t hold no grudge.”  
          “Bellatrix,” mused Becky.  “Isn’t that the name Mr. Ollivander said when he saw my wand?”  
          Hagrid gave a start and sat back uncomfortably—“Might have bin,” he muttered.  “But don’ you worry none.  Mr. Ollivander will put that wand somewhere safe so as nobody else will use it…”  
          At that point the conversation was interrupted by a loud _thwunck_ on one of the walls followed by a sizzling hissing sound.  They all turned towards the sound to see daylight—a small hole rapidly getting larger as they watched.  
          “Cuddles!” shouted Hagrid, scandalized.  “How many times have I told ya ta not spit at the house?!!”   
          Everyone ran outside to look.  Cuddles had grown considerably.  He was nearly a meter and a half in length.  He had crawled out of his swampy enclosure and was walking around the yard spitting randomly.  The solidly frozen ground became slippery steamy mush wherever the spit landed.  Hagrid shifted some huge boulders to block the hole in the wall of Cuddle’s enclosure.  It was already full of patches.  Its roof was riddled with holes too.  Then Hagrid set out to return Cuddles to his pen.  Cuddles did not cooperate.   
          “I thought lizards were supposed to slow down in cold weather,” panted James after the fourth or fifth time of heading the lizard off and away from the Forbidden Forest.   
          “Tell that to Cuddles!” replied Mark as he raced to block Cuddles from a new angle.  Cuddles was fairly fast despite his size.  All the students had to keep blocking possible exits while dodging lizard spit and slippery muck before they could get Cuddles cornered long enough for Hagrid to catch and lift Cuddles bodily back into his pen.   
          “Thanks fer yer help,” he said to the group.  He checked and refueled the fires smoldering along the inside wall of the pen that kept the temperature warm within.  “He jes’ needs more room ta stretch.  Guess I’ll be buildin’ a new pen fer Cuddles over the holidays.”  
          “And maybe a new house, as well,” muttered Rose rubbing SKIN GROW liberally over her arms and legs.  She handed the bottle to Becky and Holly while she surveyed the area.  Hagrid’s hut was full of patches too.  It would need at least one more...  “Don’t you think he needs to be released into a swamp somewhere?” she asked loudly.  
          “Naw,” said Hagrid enthusiastically.  “He likes it ‘ere—but maybe he needs a bit o’ company too…”  All the students shuddered at that thought…

********************

          November went by quickly.  Holly finally managed to pass her Broomstick course (9 minutes, 8 seconds) but returned regularly with Becky to keep her company while she practiced along with the few other first years that had not yet passed.  The Slytherins continued to simmer, but for the most part, kept their distance.  Holly was careful to travel in groups just to be safe.  She suspected that some of the “accidents” that occurred in class when the Slytherins were around were less than accidents but nothing too serious had happened.  
          One Saturday morning in early December Holly got a strange owl message from her parents.  It included a Brochure of some sort and a note from her parents.

 **Dear Holly,**             wrote her mother.

 **Your father has told his parents you attend Aunt Hillary’s Private Finishing School for Young Ladies.  Enclosed**  
**is a brochure describing this school. Could you read it over so you can answer any questions your grandparents**  
**may have about your school and classes there?  I hate to ask you to lie like this but it is very important to your**  
**father.  We love you and miss you and look forward to seeing you during the holidays.**

**Love,**

**Mum and Dad**  
 

          “What am I going to do?” wondered Holly aloud as she handed the note and brochure to Becky.  “I hate lying and I’m horrible at it.”  Becky read the note and promptly handed it to the next student at the table.  
          “What about you not telling anyone you were an Empath?” said Mark, after he read the letter.  “You must have been pretty good at that.”  He passed the letter and brochure on.  
          “That’s different,” complained Holly.  “No one ever asked me questions about it.  What’ll I say if they ask me something?”  Soon everyone had read the letter and was examining the brochure with interest.  
          “This is really extreme,” said Gwen frowning.  “It’s not right to ask people to lie like this.  Forgive me for asking, but what kind of grandparents do you have?”  
          “Normal ones, I thought,” said Holly in a small voice.  
          “Well, there’s only one thing to do here,” said Ben handing back the letter but passing the brochure around the table for others to read.   
          “What’s that?” asked Holly.   
          “Do you love your parents?”   
          “Well, yes, of course.”   
          “And do they love you?”   
          “Yes, I think so.”   
          “Then you are going to have to trust their judgment," concluded Ben, "at least until you get home and see how things are for yourself.  Chances are they won’t ask you a thing about school.  My grandparents rarely do.”  
          “But what’ll I say if they ask me something?” wailed Holly.  So the students spent the rest of the morning brainstorming things Holly could honestly say about Hogwarts that also fit the description given about _Aunt Hillary’s Private Finishing School for Young Ladies_.  It wasn’t easy.  But they found a few things.  
          The brochure stated the school nestled in the woods.  Hogwarts _was_ located (but not necessarily nestled) within the woods.  They just called it a Forbidden Forest.  This school had cooks that prepared excellent meals.  The house elves _did_ prepare excellent meals.  The brochure stated that the students engaged in all sorts of outdoors activities including horseback riding, sports and nature hikes.  
          “Well,” concluded Susan  “you _do_ ride, just not on horses.”  (Everyone laughed at that.)   
          “Don’t trips to feed the Thestrals count as nature hikes?” suggested Mark.   
          “But what about my classes?  What if they ask about my classes?”  
          “Actually, the brochure doesn’t mention any specific course topics,” put in Donna after studying the brochure.  “You could say whatever you want.”   
          “You’re definitely taking Physical Education,” said Becky.  “You know, step aerobics; my mum does it every day.”  
          “And you’re taking Choir, History and Cooking, that’s Potions, but don’t emphasize that too much or they might want you to cook something,” added Donna   
          “And Self Defense—every person should learn Self Defense these days,” said Marcy.   
          “Self Defense?” asked Holly.   
          “Sure, Defense Against the Dark Arts, that’s definitely Self Defense…” replied Marcy  
          “You guys are working too hard,” stated Stephen.  “Just say what I say when I don’t feel like answering my parents’ questions about school.  “What did you do in school? –Nothing much.  What did you learn in school? –Nothing much…  What classes are you taking—Stuff…”  
          The group laughed.  
          “That works in my home too,” agreed Roland.  With the help of the Hufflepuffs, Holly developed a list of possible responses.  Even armed with things to say, Holly still worried that she would blow it somehow.  She spent several evenings familiarizing herself with the brochure to prepare.

********************

          As the holidays approached the students became more restless.  Most of them were excited at the prospect of going home for the Holidays, as was Holly.  But Holly was also concerned about the visit.  How would her parents treat her after nearly 4 months of wizard school?  What would happen with her grandparents?  Holly had written the arrival times of the Hogwarts train and suggested her parents arrive late so as to avoid seeing the departure of other wizard students, especially if her grandparents came along.  
          Holly was also a little nervous about the train ride since it would be her first time on the Express.  Becky assured her there was “nothing to it” and promised to help her get off Platform 9 and ¾, whatever that involved.   
          On the last afternoon at Hogwarts before vacation Holly made another careful check through her things packing only non-Hogwarts items to take for her stay.  Her parents had asked that nothing related to Hogwarts be visible during her visit.  Of course Holly had to bring her wand (wands could not be left lying around unattended) and school robes but she planned to tuck them down under everything else so they wouldn’t be found.  Madam Pomfrey was certain Muggle emotions wouldn’t broadcast as strongly as wizard ones.  But Holly packed a bottle of purple potion, just in case.  The professors had already passed out notices to all first years about how they couldn’t practice magic while away from Hogwarts so at least no one expected her to practice magic while there.  Unfortunately, Holly had grown during the last four months and her old shoes no longer fit.  She would have to wear her Rainbow shoes; she hoped the family would just think she brought several different pairs of shoes if they noticed the change in colors…  
          “Excuse me, Holly?”  Holly looked up from her sorting.  It was Donna.  
          “Yes?”  
          “Albus is down at the Hufflepuff entrance,” she said.  “He wants to see you.  He looks pretty upset.”  
          “Thanks,” said Holly.  She wondered what it was about.  She scooped Sasha off her bed and put the cat on her shoulder.  Sasha had grown and no longer fit neatly on her shoulder as before.  But the cat was good at balancing herself when Holly walked.   
          Holly hadn’t had much of a chance to visit with the Potters outside of class since tea with Hagrid.  What with class work, tests, choir, quidditch (James was on the Gryffindor team) and quidditch games, they had all been pretty busy.   
          Albus was pacing the halls next to the steps below the Hufflepuff dorms.  He was wearing a winter cloak and scarf.  He indeed looked very upset but brightened visibly once he saw Holly.  “I’m glad you came,” he said.  “I need your help.”  
          “Whatever for?” asked Holly.   
          “It’s Rose,” said Albus.  “She’s run off!”   
          “She has?” exclaimed Holly.  “Why?”  
          “Well, we got into a fight,” admitted Albus.  “I said some things I shouldn’t have and she got so mad she ran out of the dorms and I haven’t seen her since!”   
          “I wouldn’t worry too much,” said Holly reassuringly.  “She’s sure to calm down and turn up in a while.”  
          “That’s what I thought,” said Albus, “but we had the fight this morning; she didn’t show up for lunch and no one has seen her since!  It’s getting late and she still hasn’t returned!”  
          “She’ll turn up when she’s ready,” said Holly.  “There are lots of places she could be in the castle.”  
          “You don’t understand,” protested Albus.  “I checked all her friends and nobody’s seen her.  I checked the library and all the classrooms and she’s not in any of those places either.  I think she ran into the Forbidden Forest and got hurt or injured or something.”   
          “Albus, that’s forbidden!" exclaimed Holly.  "Why ever would you think she’d go there?”  
          “Well, I kind of called her a tomato head and said she couldn’t find her way around the Forbidden Forest in the daylight with a map!”  
          “You didn’t!” said Holly shocked.  “Why would you say such a thing?”  
          Albus looked at Holly, his face was wet with tears.  “She was ragging on me about my low scoresand how I should study more and I can’t stand it when she does that so—”  
          “So you said something foolish in return.  But I don’t see what all that has to do with me.”  
          “Well, you’re family,” replied Albus, “and I need help finding her.”  
          “Why me?  Why don’t you tell James?”  
          “James would get mad at me for teasing Rose.  Besides,” continued Albus, “he wouldn’t be able to find her.”  
          “Oh?  Why not?”   
          “Because she’s taken the cloak.”  
          “The cloak?”   
          “The invisibility cloak.”  
          “The what?”  
          “The invisibility cloak.”  Albus explained.  “It’s dad’s old cloak.  It’s really neat.  It makes you invisible when you put it on.  We were playing with it when the fight started and when Rose ran off she took it with her.  I’m afraid Rose put it on so she wouldn’t be seen going into the Forest and she got herself injured somehow which is why she hasn’t come back.”  
          “But I don’t know anything about the Forbidden Forest,” protested Holly.  “What makes you think I can help?”  
          “Well, you’re an Empath, aren’t you?” said Albus matter of factly.  “You can sense her.”  
          Holly looked at Albus in surprise.  “How’d you know I was an Empath?”  
          “It was Rose,” explained Albus.  “She said you collapsed during the broom accident but you were nowhere near the other students.  So she did some research and figured it out.  She’s really smart.  That’s why you always have the cat, to block out everyone else’s emotions.  Please, Holly,” continued Albus, “I’m really worried about her.  Won’t you help?”   
          Holly sighed.  “Albus, yes, I can feel things, but I’m really lousy on direction.  There’s no way I could find her even if I could sense her.”  
          “Just try, won’t you?” he begged.  “Then we’d know if she was out there for sure.  O.K?  And if you can’t find her then I’ll go get James, I promise.  Please?”   
          Holly shook her head.  “This is really crazy, Albus,” she said.  Albus said nothing but continued to look at Holly hopefully, his face streaked with tears.  His simple faith in Holly’s ability to help was overwhelming.  Somehow Holly couldn’t let him down.  “But I guess I’ll try,” Holly relented.  “Give me a few minutes while I fetch my things.”  
          Albus smiled, relieved.  “Thanks,” he said.  “I’ll be right here, waiting.”   
          Holly ran back into the dorms.   
          Becky looked up when she arrived.  She was wrapping last minute gifts for her family.  “What’s going on?” she asked curiously watching Holly get her cloak, hat and scarf out.  
          “Rose is missing.  I’m going to help Albus look for her.”   
          “Really?  Need some help?”  
          Holly thought about it.  They were going into the Forbidden Forest and could get in serious trouble if they got caught.  She didn’t want Becky to risk getting into trouble too.  “No,” she replied.  “I can manage.  We won’t be out long.”  
          “O.K. then.  Well, be careful.”  Becky went back to wrapping.    
          Holly left her dorm and returned down the stairs.  Albus looked up when he heard Holly.  “Come on!” he said eagerly.  “Let's get going.”  He started trotting down the stairs.  
          “You really should be telling your Prefects about this,” said Holly as she hurried to keep up with Albus.  
          “Huh?”  Albus stopped and looked at Holly.  His face showed surprise at the suggestion.  “Why would I do that?”  
          “So they can organize a hunt or something.”   
          “Prefects don’t do that,” said Albus continuing down the stairs.  “They’re just there to try to keep you from breaking the rules…  And Rose’s already broken the rules.  I don’t want to get her into any more trouble.”     
          Holly sighed and shook her head.  That wasn’t the way her House Prefects worked…  
          They had just reached the bottom steps and were heading the main entrance when a voice rang out.  “Hey, Albus!”  It was James.  The two of them stopped.  James hurried to catch up with them.  “Have you seen Rose?”  
          Albus looked at James.  “No,” he said.  “We were just going out to look for her.”  
          James took a hard look at Albus and then at Holly, both in winter woolens.  “Where were you planning to look for her?” he asked suspiciously.   
          Albus straightened up a bit.  “In the Forbidden Forest,” he said.   
          “That’s crazy.  Why would you try to look for her there?”  Albus didn’t reply.  He looked down instead.  “Look at me Albus Severus Potter,” said James, his voice dead serious.  “What did you say to Rose?”  
          Albus looked up.  Holly could see the tears glistening on his face.  “We got into a fight,” he began, his voice quivering.  “I said something about her not being able to find her way in the Forest.  I didn’t think she’d take me serious, honest!”   
          James took a deep breath.  He was very angry.  Holly didn’t need to be an Empath to tell that.  
          “O.K.,” he said quietly.  “We’ll talk about that later.  Right now, we have to go find her.”  Then he looked at Holly.  “Holly,” he began.  “It was nice of you to offer to help.  But this isn’t your problem.  I’ll go outside with Albus and we’ll find her.”  
          “But we need Holly!” said Albus urgently.  “Rose took the cloak!  Without Holly, we’ll never find her!”    
          James turned his steely eyes back to Albus.  “And just _how_ did she get the cloak?”  Albus looked down again, afraid to speak.  James sighed.  “Never mind,” he said.  “We’ll talk about that later, too.  Wait here while I get my things.”  He returned shortly dressed for the outside weather.  Then he looked again at Holly.  “This isn’t your problem,” he reminded Holly.  “You don’t have to come along no matter what Albus says.”   
          Holly considered his words carefully and then spoke.  “I said I would help.”   
          “You think you can help?”   
          Holly thought some more.  “I don’t know,” she replied.  “What if she’s unconscious?  I don’t know if I’d sense anything then, but I’d still like to try.”   
          “Right.”  James accepted her decision without further discussion or opposition.  “Then let’s get going.”  They walked to the main entrance doors.  The huge doors swung open and the three walked through; then the doors closed behind them with a resounding clunk.

********************

          Snow blanketed the front yard.  It solidly covered any footprints Rose might have left behind.  The three walked quietly onto the snow and out towards the Forbidden Forest.  Huge snowflakes fell from above rapidly covering their own footprints.  As they neared the Forest, the wind began to pick up swirling the snow about them making it more difficult to see.  James led the group to the edge of the Forest.  The snow let up when they reached the shelter of the trees, but there was little daylight left under the trees.  
          James waved his wand and shouted:  _“Lumnos!”_   The wand lit up like a small torch.   
          Albus waved his wand.  _“Lumnos!”_ he said and his wand made a second shining light.   
          Holly waved her wand and said, _“Lumnos!”_   A fizzly red glow appeared momentarily and then died.  “You have got to teach me that spell,” Holly muttered disgustedly and put away her wand.  
          “Another time,” said James noting her unsuccessful attempt.  “Two wands will provide enough light.  Uh, Holly,” he asked.  “How does this Empath stuff work?”  Holly pulled Sasha out from under her cloak.  She started to put her on the ground when she noticed how wet, muddy and cold it looked.   
          “Here,” she said, giving the cat to Albus.  “You hold her.”  Immediately the emotions around her became more intense.  Holly closed her eyes and tried to focus.  What did she feel?  She could feel the intense worry of both James and Albus.  She could feel the cold evening air and the wind blowing around her.  Was there anything else?  Holly opened her eyes.  “I can’t feel anything,” she said regretfully.  She felt an instant wave of disappointment.  That came from Albus; she could see it in his eyes.   
          James merely nodded.  “Well,” he said, “keep trying while we look.”  He moved deeper into the forest.  “Rose!” he shouted.  “Where are you?”   
          Albus followed.  “Rose!”  Albus shouted still holding Sasha, now cradled securely in his arms.  “I’m sorry.  Please come out!”   
          “Rose!” joined Holly.  At least she could help shout.  The three walked further into the Forest, searching.  Holly tried to ignore the waves of worry that threatened to overwhelm her and find any sign of somebody else in the Forest.  She could sense nothing.  As far as she could tell, it was just the three of them in the cold dark windy Forest.  It got darker and darker.  Soon the only light came from their wands showing shadowy shapes of the huge trees with thick branches that loomed all around.  The wind blew continuously whipping small icy branches into their faces as they walked.   
          After about two hours of walking and calling, James stopped.  “It’s no good,” he said dejectedly.  All three of them were shivering from the cold.  The wind had gotten stronger and whistled through the trees.  “We couldn’t hear her out here even if she were next to us.  We need to go back.  Maybe she’s turned up already.  Maybe she isn’t here after all.”   
          “No!” shouted Albus.  “I know she’s here.”  
          “Then we need to get more help…  Come on, Albus, let’s go back.”  They started retracing their steps all the while still calling out for Rose.   
          Holly followed behind.  She was sorry she hadn’t been able to help, but glad they were at last going to get out of the cold and wind.  Without warning Holly hurt all over! She stumbled and fell.   
          “Are you all right?”  
          Holly looked up and saw both James and Albus hovering over her. “She’s here!” Holly gasped.  She could hardly speak because of the blinding pain.  
          “Where?”  
          But Holly didn’t answer.  She could only feel the pain.  
          “Here.”  Albus handed Sasha to Holly.  The cat crouched in her arms.  Sasha was shivering more than purring.   
          James reached down and stroked Sasha.  “Come on girl,” he said to Sasha.  “Do your stuff.”  The cat responded to the attention and started a small purr.  Holly reached for the purr with her mind and concentrated on it.  The pain subsided a bit to a more manageable level.   
          “Better?”  James asked.   
          Holly nodded.  “Legs hurts, head hurts, arm hurts…” Holly began cataloging the injuries.   
          “But where is she?” asked Albus.   
          “I don’t know!” snapped Holly.  “I’m lousy at directions!!!  And it hurts too much to think!”  
          “Well, try!” pleaded Albus.  “We’ll never find her otherwise!”   
          “Come on!” said James encouragingly.  “You can do it!!!”  
          Holly reached down and stroked Sasha.  The cat settled into a more comfortable position and strengthened her purr.  It helped, but not a lot.  Holly closed her eyes.  She focused on the purr.  She tried to think of all the things she had learned about determining directions.  She considered the emotions she could identify that were nearest.  Worry and concern.  That belonged to Albus and James.  Holly knew where they were standing.  She assigned those particular emotions in their directions.  Now for the pain.  Where did it originate?  If she had to guess…   
          Holly opened her eyes and pointed.  “That way!” she said loudly, adding in a smaller voice, “I think.”  
          “You stay with Holly, I’ll go look,” said James and he took off in the direction Holly had indicated.  Albus and Holly waited anxiously.  Even if she were wrong in the direction, they now knew Rose was somewhere near.   
          After what seemed like an eternity, James returned.  “She’s there,” he announced.  Both Albus and Holly breathed a sigh of relief.  “But she’s stuck under a branch.  I’ll need help getting her out.  Come on.”  James put an arm under Holly’s shoulder and helped her to stand.   
          “It hurts to move,” complained Holly clutching Sasha in her uninjured arm.   
          “I know,” acknowledged James holding her up while they moved.  “Just remember, it isn’t _your_ leg that’s broken…  Even though it hurts, it’ll still work.”  The three carefully made their way through the trees to a huge fallen branch.  James let Holly down on one side of the branch.  Sasha curled onto Holly’s lap.  The pain was much stronger now despite Sasha’s help.  
          “Now, we need some light.  Where’s your wand?” asked James.  Holly obediently pulled it out.  “I want you to wave it like this,” he moved Holly’s arm and wand in a small circle ending with a downward slash, “while you say the word _Lumnos!_   Put the accent on the first part and make sure you finish the word and the wand motion at the same time.  Ready?”   
          “I think so,” said Holly uncertainly.  
          “Good.  Give it a try.”   
          Holly swished her wand and shouted _“Lumnos!”_ at the same time.  A bright light emitted from the tip of the wand illuminating the area.  Holly could now see Rose, lying underneath a huge branch.  Rose had her eyes open and watched them; her face was contorted in pain.  One leg showed awkwardly out at a strange angle.  She could see the white of bone extending from an arm beneath the smaller branches.  Holly swallowed anxiously.  No wonder she hurt so much.  
          “Good,” encouraged James.  “Keep on petting Sasha and hold your light up high.  We’ll need it.”  James scooted down next to Rose.  “How are you doing?” he asked her.   
          Rose gave a weak smile.  “I’ve been better,” she responded.   
          James looked up at Albus.  “Albus, you’re going to have to lift the branch while I pull Rose out from underneath.”   
          “Me?” squeaked Albus.  “I can’t lift that!”   
_“Wingardium Leviosa,”_ commanded James.  “The branch may be bigger than the practice items, but the spell is the same.  I can’t lift it and pull her out at the same time.  We’ll have to work together.  Now, concentrate.”  
          “But I can’t...” began Albus.  
          “So I was right about you needing to practice more!”  That came from Rose.  Everyone looked at her.  She had lifted her head to speak out.  Her head fell back after the effort of speaking but the needling taunt did the trick.   
          Albus straightened.  “No you weren’t,” he shouted back at Rose.  Then he determinedly pointed his wand at the branch and shouted _“Wingardium Leviosa.”_ Amazingly, the heavy branch shifted and began to move a bit.   
          “Hold it there!” shouted James and he began to drag Rose out from underneath the branch.  New waves of pain hit Holly; she fought to keep her wand lit but failed.  The whole forest turned black.  Dimly, Holly heard James shout:  “Keep the branch up!”  
          Holly concentrated on Sasha trying to keep conscious, to keep the pain from overwhelming her.   
          Later, she heard James say, “You can let it down now.”  There was a loud crash as the branch fell to the ground.  The intense pain subsided to a dull roar.   
_“Lumnos!”_   The light from a wand appeared.  Albus held it high.   
          Holly watched James shift Rose up against a rock.  That hurt too, but not as much as before.  James looked over at Holly. “How are you doing?” he asked.  Holly nodded, not certain she could speak yet.  All of them sat to rest a bit.  The hard part, getting Rose out from under the branch, was over.   
          “Look,” said Albus pointing to the break in the branch.  One side had a ragged break the other side looked like it had been eaten away by some disease.   
          Lighting his own wand, James walked over and examined it closer.  “Lizard spit,” he pronounced.  “Guess we know where Cuddles has been.  
          “That settles it,” said Rose weakly.  “I am definitely taking Cuddles off my Christmas gift list.”  Everyone smiled.   
          “O.K. everybody,” said James pocketing his wand.  “Let’s get out of here.”  He placed his arm under Rose to help her up and Albus moved in to assist.  Holly remained seated bracing herself for the inevitable pain that would happen when Rose tried to stand.  Once Rose was up, James looked over at Holly.  “Come on,” he told her.   
          Holly shook her head and remained seated.  “I can’t,” she said.  “Even with Sasha I hurt too much and it’ll hurt even more once you start moving.  You go on and I’ll follow behind when it doesn’t hurt so much.”  
          “You can’t do that,” protested James.  “You don’t know your way around the Forest.  You could get lost!”     
          “Then I’ll wait right here.  Get Rose to safety and then come back for me.  It’s going to take two of you to do it.  I’ll be fine once Rose is away from here.”  Holly waved her wand and shouted _“Lumnos!”_   Her wand lit up brightly for a second time.  “See.  I’ll be fine.”  She settled herself down for a long wait.  Both James and Albus did not want to leave Holly alone in the Forest but Holly was equally determined to not move.  It just wouldn’t work.  She couldn’t block out Rose’s pain enough to walk unaided.  
          “Put the cloak on her!” said Rose.   
          “Huh?”  James looked questioningly at Rose.   
          “I said, put the cloak on her,” she repeated.  “The invisible one!”   
          “Dad’s cloak?  Why?” asked James confused.   
          “Just do it!” said Rose gritting her teeth because of the pain.  James left Rose leaning against Albus and walked over to Holly.  He pulled out some sort of cloth from under his robes and draped it over her.  Almost immediately, all the pain vanished.  Holly was still cold and wet, but she didn’t hurt like before.  
          “Better?” asked Rose.   
          “Yes, much,” replied Holly, surprised.  
          “Then let’s get out of here!”   
          The four slowly and carefully made their way through the forest.  James and Albus supported Rose between them.  She leaned on their shoulders and hobbled forward.  Holly held her wand high for the other three while wearing the invisibility cloak.  Progress was slow.  It had to be a very painful trip for Rose, but Holly felt none of it.  Periodically, James would give directions—“turn left here, that way…”  Holly would have never gotten out on her own.   
          Finally they reached the edge of the Forest.  The wind still blew, but fortunately, the snowing had stopped.  They made their way slowly back to the castle.  Holly extinguished her wand and tucked it away when they reached the steps.  The huge doors swung open as they reached the top step.  A blast of warm air greeted them as they all walked inside.

********************

          “What were you doing outside at this hour?”  Everyone froze.  The huge doors swung shut behind them.  Professor Longbottom stood watching them.  Sitting on the steps leading to the second floor sat Scorpius Malfoy, and the Richards brothers, watching the show.  “Well?”  Professor Longbottom demanded.   
          “Rose got hurt, sir,” said James.  “We were just helping her get to the infirmary.”   
          Professor Longbottom took a long hard look at their dripping clothing and asked:  “And where did she get hurt, Mr. Potter?” he directed his question at Albus.   
          Albus’s voice quavered as he answered.  “In the Forbidden Forest, sir.”  The Slytherins smiled.  
          “You all know the rules,” stated Professor Longbottom.  “No wandering around outside at night and certainly no going into the Forbidden Forest.  Twenty House points from each of you plus a week of detention when you return from the holidays.”     
          “Hey, Potter,” shouted the elder Richards with a grin.  “If you’re going to break the rules and spend the night out, at least you could have chosen a day with better weather!”  The Slytherins laughed loudly.   
          Professor Longbottom turned angrily to them.  “Don’t you three have some packing to do?” he demanded.  
          “Yes, sir!” said Tom Richards with a smirk.  He jumped up and gave the Professor a mock salute.  “Come on,” he said to Tony and Scorpius, “let’s go tell the others!”  They raced down the stairs laughing and headed out a door towards the dungeons.   
          Professor Longbottom watched them leave and then turned back to the dripping students.  “Let’s get Rose up to the infirmary,” he said.  “You can tell me what happened along the way.”   
          “Yes, sir,” said James.  The three started up the stairs with Professor Longbottom leaving a dripping Holly still standing at the front doors.  With a start, Holly remembered she had the invisibility cloak on—and it really worked!!!.  No one had seen her enter!  No one had noticed the growing puddle of water that marked where she stood!  She also realized with certainty that neither Rose nor the Potters would ever breathe a word of her presence leaving her free to go back to her dorm without consequence.   
          Without thinking, Holly raced up the stairs catching up with the others.  “That’s not fair,” she blurted, taking off the invisibility cloak.  Immediately all the pain of Rose’s injuries returned.  Holly collapsed in agony.  Professor Longbottom turned in surprise.  The others stopped also.   
          “Get that back on!” commanded Rose weakly.  “It’s bad enough that I have to hurt without you hurting too!”  Holly dragged the cloak over her body again becoming invisible but immediately feeling much better.  
          “Uh,” began Professor Longbottom looking at the growing puddle of water on the floor.  “How about we take Miss Weasley to the infirmary now and um, Miss Wycliff, why don’t you change out of your wet clothes and meet us there in about half an hour.  O.K?”  
          “Yes sir,” said Holly meekly from beneath the cloak.  She lay still under the cloak for a long time making sure everyone else was gone before standing.  Then she took off the cloak.  Immediately she felt the usual mix of school emotions surrounding her.  Sasha jumped out from one of the sleeves of Holly’s robe and leaped onto a shoulder returning to her usual perch.  She began purring loudly clearly happy at the relative warmth of the castle.   
          Holly returned to her dorms.  As usual, the Judge in the portrait demanded a password.  Holly provided a knock-knock joke she had saved up for emergencies and entered amidst his laughter.  
          Becky was sitting in the common room reading a book.  She looked up at Holly’s arrival and gave a smile of relief.  “Oh, good, you’re back,” she said.  “I was getting worried.  You missed supper and all.  Is everything all right?”   
          “Yes,” said Holly briefly.  “We found Rose and they’ve taken her to the infirmary.”   
          “That’s good,” said Becky.   
          “I’m going to change out of these wet clothes and then go visit her.  I’ll tell you about it all later.”  
          “Okay.  See you.”

********************

          Madam Pomfrey met Holly at the door of the infirmary.  “How are you feeling?” she inquired.  
          “Fine, really,” replied Holly.  “Just a little tired.”  Madam Pomfrey stared at Holly directly in the eyes.  “All right,” conceded Holly, “a lot tired—but I’m fine otherwise.”  
          “Mr. Potter tells me you located Miss Weasley on the first try,” stated Madam Pomfrey.  “Is this true?”   
          “I suppose.  But I was just guessing, really.”   
          “We’ll see about that.  When you come into the infirmary,” Madam Pomfrey directed, “I want you to tell me which bed Miss Weasley is in.  Ready?”  
          “I suppose.”  Holly entered the infirmary.  All the beds had curtains around them.  No sound could be heard.   
          “Right,” said Madam Pomfrey.  “Which bed is she in?”   
          Holly closed her eyes and concentrated on the feelings.  Rose was certainly there; she could feel the now healing bones.  She wasn’t alone, either.  But where?  Holly opened her eyes and pointed.  “That bed,” she said.   
          “Why don’t you look and see if you’re correct,” said Madam Pomfrey.  Holly went to the bed and pulled back the curtain.   
          “Hello, Holly,” said Rose with a smile.  “Nice to see you again.”  
          Holly smiled.  “You too,” she said.   
          Rose looked much better.  Color had returned to her face.  All her injuries had been cleaned and bandaged.   
          James and Albus sat next to her.  They had changed into some clean dry clothes.  “Hi, Holly,” they both greeted.  
          “How are you feeling?” asked James.   
          “Much better, thank you,” said Holly.  “Uh, here’s your cloak,” she said handing James the silvery cloak she had worn back to the school.  “Thanks for letting me use it.”   
          James took the folded cloak and tucked it under his robes.  “Any time,” he said.   
          Rose looked at Madam Pomfrey.  “Can we talk again?” she asked.   
          Madam Pomfrey nodded.  “But only for a short while.  You all need your rest.”  
          “Good,” said Rose.  “Have a seat,” she told Holly patting the side of her bed.  Holly sat down.  Rose continued the story she had obviously already begun.  “Anyway,” she said to the group, “the only way I could get away from the giant spiders chasing me was to put on the cloak.  That seemed to fool them.  Of course, I had run off the trail to escape them in the first place and I was in the process of getting back to the trail when that branch fell on me…”   
          Rose took a sip of water and then continued.  “I don’t know how long I was unconscious but when I woke up I could hear you all calling for me.  I answered back but I guess you never heard me.  I figured for sure Holly would be able to sense me and I couldn’t understand why she hadn’t.  Then I remembered I was wearing the cloak.  It occurred to me that maybe the cloak made me invisible to her, too.  It wasn’t easy, mind you, but I managed to pull the cloak off.  Right afterwards, James came up….   I was really glad to see you,” she said looking at James.  
          “But how did you know the cloak would help Holly on the return trip!” asked Albus.  
          “That was another guess.  I was hoping that the cloak could work in reverse keeping my emotions from reaching Holly while she wore it.  Fortunately, I was right, or you and James would have had to carry an invisible person back to school.”      
          “Yeah,” agreed Albus,  “That would have been weird indeed—lots weirder than that hand poking out of nowhere waving a lit wand.”  
          Holly gave a start at that.  They had called it an invisibility cloak but she had never considered she actually was invisible.  Nor had she thought how she must have looked while wearing the cloak.  “Sorry about that,” she muttered.   
          James laughed.  “No problem,” he said.  “Better a lit wand and a disembodied hand than a return trip into that forest to fetch you.”  He lowered his voice.  “You know, you didn’t have to tell Professor Longbottom you were with us.  We would have covered for you.”   
          Holly nodded.  “I know,” she said.  “But it wouldn’t have been right you three getting punished and me getting off free and clear when I had been there with you the whole time.”  
          “Speaking of which,” said Rose.  “Look who’s here!”        
          They all turned to see Professor Longbottom enter the infirmary.  He was carrying a large covered basket.  He stopped and talked briefly with Madam Pomfrey before coming over to Rose’s bed.  “I figured you might be hungry so I brought you some food,” he said.  He opened the basket, pulled out several meat pasties and handed one to each of them.   
          “Thank you, sir,” they said and quickly began devouring the hot food.   
          Professor Longbottom waited patiently while they ate and then handed each another pasty before he spoke.  “Kreacher was on my case the moment he heard you three,” he nodded at the Potters and Rose, “didn’t show up for dinner.”  
          “Kreacher?” asked Albus in surprise.  “How did he know?”   
          “The house-elves all talk to each other.  Kreacher used to work here once.  No doubt he is good friends with several house-elves living at Hogwarts.” replied Professor Longbottom.  “And he was all over me once he learned that the three of you were also nowhere inside Hogwarts.  I expect the other house-elves told him that as well.  I was just about to go outside to start a search when you turned up at the door.”  Professor Longbottom paused and looked at Holly.  “I’m afraid I didn’t realize you were missing too.”  She looked down feeling distinctly uncomfortable.  “You needn’t have come forward, you know,” he added.  
          “I know,” Holly agreed, “but it just wasn’t fair that they would get punished and I wouldn’t.  I knew I was breaking the rules when I went with them.”   
          Professor Longbottom nodded.  “If you had been a Slytherin, you surely would have taken the opportunity presented, but you are a Hufflepuff.  And Hufflepuffs have higher standards.  Unfortunately,” he continued, “that means I shall have to take away 20 House points and give you a week of detention too.”  Holly nodded.  It was severe, but what she deserved for breaking the rules.  She wondered what detention would be like.  “On the brighter side,” added Professor Longbottom, “Madam Pomfrey tells me she has awarded you 10 House points for figuring out how to determine directions with your abilities.”  Everyone smiled at that.   
          “Good for you,” James heartily congratulated Holly who blushed at the praise.  
          “And,” continued Professor Longbottom, “Madam Pomfrey has awarded you,” he looked at Rose, "5 house points for your creative use of a certain cloak no one is supposed to know you have.”  
          “All right!” said Albus happily.   
          Professor Longbottom looked at James, when he spoke next.  “I trust you will put it somewhere where it won’t get found and accidentally used again…”  
          “Yes, sir,” said James relieved the Professor hadn’t demanded the actual cloak.  “You can count on it.”  
          “Are you going to tell our parents?” asked Albus suddenly.   
          Professor Longbottom thought a moment.  “I don’t think that will be necessary,” he replied.  Albus sat back, relieved.  Then Professor Longbottom added, “I’m sure Kreacher has already given them the whole story.”  
          “Oh no!” exclaimed Albus.     
          “Mind you,” continued the professor, “I don’t know how accurate his story will be so you might want to tell them your version of the events.”   
          “Yes sir,” said James.  “What about Rose?” he inquired.   
          “Well,” said Professor Longbottom,  “I’m sure Miss Weasley’s parents will figure out something’s up once they get the notice that Miss Weasley will be remaining in the infirmary an extra day to recover and won’t be riding the train from Hogwarts tomorrow.”   
          “But I’m fine!” protested Rose.  “Surely I can take the train tomorrow.”   
          “If Madam Pomfrey says you need an extra day to recover then you need an extra day,” said Professor Longbottom.  “What’d you expect after spending an afternoon out in the snow and an evening under a tree branch.”  
          “Yes, sir,” said Rose disappointedly.   
          Professor Longbottom looked up.  “Ah, I see Madam Pomfrey coming this way.  That must mean visiting time is over; it’s late and all of you need to get some rest.”  Everyone said “Good-bye” to Rose and went back to their dorms.

 


	10. Chapter 10

           Holly told Becky and the other Hufflepuffs on the train the next day about her adventures in the Forbidden Forest.  While dismayed that she had chosen to break the rules, no one suggested she should have stayed hidden or that she shouldn’t have tried to help her cousins in the first place.  They all cheered when Holly reported she had gotten 10 points for finally figuring out the direction of emotions.  
          When the train pulled up to the station, Holly said “goodbye” to all her friends and watched them leave with their families.  With Becky’s help, Holly managed to make it through the pillar that separated Platform 9 and ¾ from the Muggle side of the station.  (Holly closed her eyes and Becky pulled her through.)   
          Becky’s parents were waiting anxiously on the other side.  They seemed really nice.  Holly said “Hello” to them and thanked them for forwarding her letters.  Finally she waved goodbye to the Smiths and watched as they left.  They had offered to stay with her until Holly’s parents arrived, but Holly didn’t think that would be a good idea.  They seemed to understand.   
          After they left Holly found an empty bench and settled down to wait for her parents.  Sasha jumped up on her shoulder and started purring in her ear.  Madam Pomfrey seemed correct.  All the Muggle emotions passing by seemed much more muted than those she experienced at Hogwarts. 

********************

          “Hello, Holly.”   
          Holly looked up and saw the tall figure of Harry Potter standing quietly next to her.  “Mr. Potter,” said Holly with surprise.  “What are you doing here?”  
          “I thought I would say “Hello” to my cousin,” he replied with a smile.   
          “But your family!  Surely you want to be with them?”  She had seen them all greet each other and take off ages earlier while she was on the Hogwarts side of the station.  
          “I have all the holidays to spend with my family and only now to spend with you.  May I sit down?”  Holly nodded and Mr. Potter sat down on the bench next to her.  “My, your kitten has certainly grown,” he said admiringly.  “What’s her name?”   
          “Sasha.”  
          “That’s a lovely name,” said Mr. Potter reaching up to pet her.  Sasha responded happily to the attention turning on Holly’s shoulder to get petted more purring even louder.  “Your parents wrote me,” began Mr. Potter conversationally.  “They said they would be a bit late in arriving to the station and asked if I would keep you company until they arrived.”  
          “Oh.  That was nice of them.”  
          “Yes,” agreed Mr. Potter.  They both petted Sasha some more in silence and watched the people pass by.  “How was school?” he asked.  
          “Fine,” answered Holly.  “I’m learning lots.”  
          Mr. Potter nodded.  “One does,” he agreed.  They watched more people pass by.   
          Finally Holly spoke.  “You never told me you were famous,” she said.  
          “I don’t feel famous,” he replied quietly.  “Just lucky to be alive.”             
          “Oh.”  
          “Thank you for finding Rose.”   
          Holly looked up at Mr. Potter in surprise.  “How did you know about that?” she asked.  “Mr. Longbottom said he wouldn’t write you.”   
          “He didn’t,” said Mr. Potter.  He waited a moment before continuing, “Madam Pomfrey wrote me.”   
          “Madam Pomfrey?”  
          “Yes.  She said you stuck by your cousins under a most difficult situation and put your abilities to good use in locating Miss Weasley.  Good job,” he added congratulating her.   
          Holly blushed.  “It was mostly just luck.  I didn’t really know what I was doing when I did it.”  
          “Yes, of course,” agreed Mr. Potter.  “That’s how things happen sometimes.”  The two sat quietly together for a minute watching the people pass.  Then Mr. Potter spoke again.  “Madam Pomfrey felt your parents should be very proud of you.”   
          “Really?”   
          He nodded.  “She wanted to tell your parents,” he added, “but didn’t know if she should so she told me instead.”  
          “How does she know about my parents?”   
          “She doesn’t.  But your parents sent a note to the Hogwarts Headmistress requesting all matters regarding you be referred to me, as your legal guardian, while you are attending Hogwarts.  I hope you don’t mind.”   
          Holly looked up at Mr. Potter in astonishment.  “But why?” she asked.  Mr. Potter remained silent letting Holly think about it.  “It’s the owls, isn’t it?” she finally said.  “They didn’t want an owl to arrive at a wrong time.”  
          Mr. Potter nodded.  “Probably,” he replied.   
          “What is it with my grandparents?”  Holly said in frustration.  “I can’t send letters home because of the owls.  My parents expect me to say I’m from the _Aunt Hillary’s Private Finishing School for Young Ladies!_ And now this!”  
_“Aunt Hillary’s Private Finishing School for Young Ladies!_   Really?” laughed Mr. Potter.  Holly nodded miserably.  “You’re lucky,” continued Mr. Potter, “Your Grandparents told everyone _I_ attended _St. Brutus’s Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys.”_    
          Holly looked up in surprise.  “Seriously?” she asked.  
          “Yup.”   
          “Didn’t it make you mad?”   
          “Yeah, but it wasn't as if I could do anything about it--I couldn't tell anyone where I really went and couldn't prove it if I did...  Later on, I didn't care.  I knew the truth and that was enough for me.  I think I’d have been madder if I’d had to actually attend _St. Brutus’s Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys._ ”  Holly laughed.  Mr. Potter reached out and started petting Sasha again.  Sasha squirmed in happiness.  “Oh, I have a Christmas present for you,” he said changing the subject.  He pulled out a small package wrapped in sparkly tissue paper.  “You may open it now if you want,” he said as he handed it to Holly.  “It’s perfectly safe for you to bring to your house.”  
          “Thank you, Mr. Potter,” said Holly as she took the gift.  
          “You may call me Cousin Harry, if you like,” he said gently.   
          “Yes, sir.”  Holly untied the string and unfolded the paper.  Inside the wrapping was small snow globe.  Snow swirled within encircling a small structure.  “It’s lovely,” she said.  Looking closer, Holly realized the structure was a miniature replica of Hogwarts!  It even had Hagrid’s hut set off to one side.  She looked up at Mr. Potter in surprise.    
          “Snow globes are a popular Muggle gift this year,” continued Mr. Potter lightly.  “Do you like it?”  
          “But this is—”  
          “Your Grandparents have never seen Hogwarts,” he added.  “It will only look like a castle to them.”  The two of them watched the white snow swirl around the castle.  “I picked it out before I knew of last night’s little adventure.  I hope it won’t give you bad memories.”  Holly shook the globe.  They watched the snow swirl some more.  “Your mother might like to see Hogwarts some day,” Mr. Potter speculated thoughtfully.  “Ah,” he said looking up.  “I believe I see your parents coming.”  Holly looked in the same direction and saw her parents walking up in the distance.

********************

          Dillon Wycliff couldn’t remember a time when he felt more anxious—both dreading and wanting to see Holly.  No, he could.  There was that night when he awaited a call from Harry about Holly.  That had been bad too.  And he still wasn’t sure he had made the right decision sending Holly to Hogwarts.  Boarding Schools changed people.   
          Vernon had come back from Smeltings changed; he was still their son, but he was stronger, tougher, more independent.  He, Dillon, had returned from Smeltings stronger, tougher and more independent too.  Harry Potter had returned from Hogwarts also stronger, tougher, and more independent.  But there had been more.  Harry Potter came back with nightmares.  He was often angry.  Strange magical creatures and crazed killers chased him.  Though Dillon had never inquired, never cared, Hogwarts had clearly not been a safe school, not for Harry.   
          When Laurel had asked him about Hogwarts, Dillon hadn’t been able to bring himself to tell her about the scary sort of things that must have happened to Harry; he didn’t want to worry her about why he had nightmares whenever he thought of Hogwarts.  But with Holly attending Hogwarts, Dillon worried.  The parent in him wanted to know every last bit about Holly’s stay in Hogwarts; the Dursely in him didn’t.  
          “Look, there’s Holly!” said Laurel when they approached the station.  Dillon looked up.  He recognized the figure of Cousin Harry seated on a bench next to a young girl.  Sure enough, it looked like Holly sitting on that bench, but then it didn’t.  Holly had clearly changed.  She still had her long blonde hair, but from the skinny frail pale child he remembered, the girl he now saw looked slender, but strong and robust.  Her cheeks had a rosy glow, and she appeared very healthy indeed.  When they got closer, the girl who looked like Holly got up off the bench and raced to greet them.   
          “Mum!  Dad!” she said excitedly trying to hug them both at the same time.  “I’ve missed you so much!”   
          “Holly!” greeted Dillon hugging her back.  “I’ve missed you too.”  Then he looked up as something heavy and furry with claws that dug into his coat landed on his shoulder.  It was a very friendly grey cat that purred loudly in his ear.   
          “This is my cat, Sasha,” said Holly proudly reaching over to pet her.  “Isn’t she beautiful?”  Sasha, still purring, rubbed her silky cheek on Dillon’s face clearly asking for attention.   
          “Uh, yes,” he said reaching up uncertainly and petting Sasha’s silky fur.  “I guess she is.”  
          Holly turned and gave Laurel a warm hug next.  “I missed you so, mum!” Holly said.  “It’s wonderful to see you!”  Sasha jumped from Dillon’s shoulder to Laurel’s demanding attention from her too.  
          “How are you, Holly?” asked Laurel while petting Sasha.  “You look terrific.”  
          “I’m just fine,” replied Holly happily retrieving her cat and placing Sasha back on her own shoulder.  
          Together they walked back to Cousin Harry and Holly’s Luggage.  He stood and tipped his head in greeting.  “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Wycliff,” Harry said pleasantly.  “You are both looking well.”   
          “Uh, you too, Harry,” said Dillon, uncomfortably.   
          “Thank you for keeping an eye on Holly for us until we could arrive,” spoke up Laurel quickly.  
          “My pleasure, ma’am,” said Harry.  “If you don’t mind, I’ll be leaving now.”  
          “Of course,” said Laurel.  “Your family must be waiting.”   
          “They’ve gone on ahead, ma’am,” replied Harry.  “But I would like to be getting home.  Have a pleasant Holiday.”  With that, Cousin Harry stepped quickly away and soon vanished within a crowd of passing people leaving Dillon alone with Holly and Laurel.  
          “Look, Cousin Harry gave me a present.”  Holly held up a small snow globe for them both to see.  “I’ve never had a snow globe before,” continued Holly happily.  She shook it and held it up for them to see.  “It’s of a castle.  We’re studying castles in history.”  
          “That’s nice, dear,” said Dillon barely giving it a glance while he bent down and picked up Holly’s two bags.  “How was school?” he asked anxiously as the group started towards his car.  
          “School was terrific!  I had a great time.  I’ve made some really good friends.”  
          “What kind of things do you do?” asked Laurel.   
          “Um, some of us went on a hike around the grounds yesterday,” said Holly.  “It was really pretty outside with the snow falling…”  
          They reached the car.  Dillon looked hesitantly at Sasha, still on Holly’s shoulder.  “Uh,” he began, “we kind of forgot to bring a carrying cage…”   
          “That’s all right,” assured Holly, “Sasha’ll be fine on my lap.  That’s what she did on the train.”  Holly got in the car.  Sasha jumped off her shoulder and curled up on Holly’s lap.  “See?” said Holly strapping herself in, “She’s very well trained.”  Dillon put the bags in the trunk and got in.  “So tell me about Vernon?” asked Holly.  “How was his school?”  
          “Vernon got home yesterday….” began Dillon relieved to be on familar topics.  He and Laurel spent the rest of the trip talking about the news—Vernon at school, his parent’s trip, news in the neighborhood...  Holly listened with interest asking questions.  It was late when they finally arrived home.  Holly grabbed her things and went to her room.  It all looked just as she had left it.  Holly changed her clothes and got ready for bed.  
          “How would you like to go shopping tomorrow?” asked Laurel as she tucked Holly in.  Both she and Dillon had come to Holly's room to put her to bed.  
          “I’d like that a lot,” said Holly happily as she snuggled under familiar blankets.  The cat jumped onto the bed and crawled under the covers with Holly.   
          “Good night,” said Dillon as he kissed her gently on the forehead.   
          Holly smiled sleepily, reached up and gave Dillon a bedtime hug.  “Good night, daddy.” she whispered in his ear.  "It's so good to be home."   
          Reassured by her words and the warmth of her hug, Dillon hugged Holly tightly and smiled.  “It’s good to have you back,” he told her.  Holly had come back from _that school_ changed; she was definitely stronger and probably tougher and more independent.  But maybe, underneath it all, Holly was still his little girl.  Dillon stood, turned out the light and left the room shutting the door behind him.

********************

          Laurel Wycliff was cleaning some dishes when Holly walked into the kitchen.  Her cat, Sasha, perched jauntily on Holly's shoulder.  Holly was wearing clothing Laurel recognized she had sent with Holly in September.  The shirt fit skin tight, the pants looked tight and short.  Holly had definitely grown during her stay at Hogwarts.  
          “Hello mum,” said Holly with a smile.  “I had a dream last night that I was home asleep in my own bed.  And guess what—when I woke up this morning, the dream came true!”  Holly gave Laurel a big hug.  “It’s so good to be home.”  
          “It’s good to have you here,” said Laurel hugging her back.  “Would you like some breakfast?”  
          “Yes please,” said Holly sitting down at the table.  “Where’s Vernon?”   
          “He got up and ate earlier,” explained Laurel.  “He’s over at the neighbor’s now.”  Laurel filled a large bowl with oatmeal and set it down before Holly.  Holly immediately poured in some milk and stirred it all together.  The cat jumped off Holly’s shoulder and onto the floor.  She immediately started twining around Laurel’s legs in an unmistakable bid for food.   
          “Uh, Holly,” began Laurel. “We really did forget about the cat.  I’m afraid we haven’t got any food for it.  
          “Her,” corrected Holly.  “That’s O.K.  She’s very flexible.”  Holly got up and grabbed a small saucer.  She heaped some of her own oatmeal into the bowl, added some more milk stirred it up and placed it on the floor for the cat.  The cat began to eat eagerly.   
          Holly added some sugar to her own bowl, stirred it and began to eat.  “I can’t begin to tell you how wonderful it is to be able to walk ten paces from the bedroom to the kitchen for meals,” she began.  “Our House, my dorm, is in the very top of a tower.  The food is served on the ground floor.  There are hundreds of steps in between.  I usually have to go up and down them at least twice a day, more if I forget something.  I am _so_ tired of those steps.”  
          Laurel listened with interest.  “Aren’t there any elevators?”    
          Holly shook her head.  “Not really, the only thing close to an elevator that I’ve seen was on the way up to the Headmistress’s office,” she replied.  “Everyone walks.”  
          “But what about handicapped students?”  Laurel sat down at the table across from Holly.  
          “Huh?”  
          “You know, students in wheelchairs and such.”   
          Sasha had finished eating and moved to the back door circling in front of it anxiously.  Holly got up, let Sasha out and then returned to her meal.  “There aren’t any handicapped students,” Holly replied thoughtfully.  “How odd.  There are lots of students but none in wheelchairs.”  
          “Don’t they get injured?”  
          “Lots of times, but they always stay in the infirmary until they are well.”  
          “How many students are at the school?” asked Laurel.   
          Holly frowned as she thought about this.  “Two-maybe three hundred.  I’ve never counted but it seems like an awful lot when we eat together.”  Holly got up, put hers and Sasha’s empty dishes in the sink and went to the back door.  She opened it. “Sasha?” she called looking around outside.  Holly walked outside.  “Sasha?” she called.  “SASHA!”  Holly returned to the kitchen.  “She’s not there,” Holly said puzzled.  
          “I wouldn’t worry about it,” said Laurel reassuringly.  “It’s a new place.  She probably wants to explore a bit.”  
          “She’s never done that before…” said Holly, clearly worried.   
          “She’s never been here before,” reminded Laurel.  
          “Maybe…” said Holly, not convinced and still looking worried.  
          “Just sit down and wait a bit.”  suggested Laurel while she wiped the crumbs off the table.  Reluctantly, Holly sat down again.  “Maybe it will just take time for her to get back to our door…  in the meantime,” said Laurel rinsing off the dishes.  “Why don’t you and I plan our shopping trip?  Where would you like to go first?  It looks like you need just about everything.”  
          “I need new shoes,” said Holly distractedly.   
          Laurel looked at the shiny bright pink shoes on Holly’s feet.  “Actually,” she concluded out loud, “they are about the only thing that doesn’t look small on you.”   
          “They’re school shoes,” said Holly absently, watching the door anxiously.  “I’d like something for the holidays.”  Abruptly Holly got up and went back to the kitchen door.  She opened it and again looked outside.  “Sasha?  SASHA!!”  Holly closed the door and returned slowly back into the kitchen.  “Mum?” she said softly.   
          “Yes, dear?”  Laurel glanced at Holly, and then looked again.  Gone was the self-assured smiling child that had walked in for breakfast.  This Holly looked utterly lost and woebegone.  
          “Remember when I told you there weren’t any handicapped persons at Hogwarts?”  
          “Yes.”  
          “Well, I think I kind of lied.  I think, maybe, there _is_ one handicapped person there.”  
          “Oh?”  
          “It’s me!” said Holly in a rush.  “Sasha.  I’m never without her.  She sits on my lap or on shoulder and purrs in my ear and it makes all the other kid’s emotions seem dim and far away.  It’s how I get through school without taking any medicine!  I’m sure something has happened to her!  Sasha has never gone more than a few feet away from me.  What am I going to do?”  Tears streamed down Holly’s face as she stood there looking small and helpless.  
          “Don’t worry,” said Laurel wiping her hands dry and then kneeling down to hug her daughter.  “We’ll find her.”  
          The kitchen door opened and Vernon raced in.  “Hello mom, hello sis!”  Vernon said.  Vernon stopped and did a double take looking again at Holly.  “Hey sis, you look terrific, what’d they give you at that school, grow pills?”  
          “Did you see a cat outside?” asked Holly.  
          “Uh, yeah, maybe…” replied Vernon, confused at the question.  “Why?”  
          “What happened to her?”  
          “We chased it off, of course.”  Vernon looked at Laurel.  “You and dad are always complaining about how you don’t like stray cats around here.”  
          “You chased off my cat!” said Holly angrily.  
          “Your cat?  I didn’t know you had a cat!”  Vernon looked at Laurel for confirmation.  
          “Yes, Holly got a cat while she was at school,” agreed Laurel.   
          “It’ll come back,” said Vernon uncertainly. “And if it doesn’t, you can always get a new one…”  
          “I don’t want a new one.  I want Sasha!”  Holly stared intently at Vernon.  “He not telling it all,” she announced suddenly.  “Tell me what happened to my cat!”   
          Laurel looked from Holly to Vernon.  Holly’s green eyes were blazing at Vernon with anger and determination.  “Vernon?” Laurel asked.  
          “I didn’t!” he sputtered looking clearly guilty.  
          “Vernon,” commanded Laurel, “tell us what happened.”  
          Vernon caved in under Laurel’s stern look.  “There’s a guy on the corner,” he began.  “He buys stray cats.  I didn’t know it was yours, honest, I thought it was just another stray cat hanging around the house.  You and dad always said the stray cats bring all sorts of dirt and disease and ticks and fleas…  I thought I was doing us a favor.  So when I saw that scrawny grey cat hanging around the house, Ben and me, we caught the cat and took it down to the corner…  It put up a heck of a fight too, just like any wild cat.”  
          “You _sold_ my cat?” said Holly with icy anger.  “How could you?!”  
          “It’s just a cat,” whined Vernon.  “I didn't know it was yours!  I’ll get you another cat, O.K?”  
          Laurel felt herself go cold with anger.  She took a deep breath before speaking.  “Vernon,” she began, “we are a family.  We are supposed to help and take care of each other.  We don’t steal from each other, and we don’t hurt each other.  I want you to take whatever money you have, go back to that corner, explain you made a mistake and get Holly’s cat back.  Now!”   
          “But mom, Ben and me split the money…”   
          “Then get the money back from Ben or get some more of your own to make up the difference,” commanded Laurel coldly.  “If you don’t get Holly’s cat back you will be spending the rest of the Holiday in your bedroom!  Do you understand me?”  
          “Yes ma’am.”  Vernon disappeared in his bedroom briefly before reappearing and heading out the kitchen door.   
          “I’m going with you!” said Holly.   
          “No!” said Vernon.  “I think it would be better if you didn’t…”  
          Holly stared at him intently and then nodded.  “I’ll wait here, then,” she said.  “Just bring back my cat.”  
          “I’ll try,” he mumbled as he left the house.  Holly stood stiffly staring intently at the door as if willing it to open with her cat.   
          Laurel wiped her hands dry.  “Holly, dear,” she said, “come sit down.  We may have to wait a while.”  Holly let Laurel move her to a chair where she woodenly sat down, still staring at the door.  Laurel sat down next to Holly.  “Don’t be too hard on him, Holly,” she suggested gently.  “He only meant the best and he honestly didn’t know you had a cat.  He didn’t know,” Laurel added thoughtfully, “none of us knew, what the cat meant to you.”  Holly continued to stare at the door without comment.   
          Laurel sat with Holly silently for a while.  Then she said.  “Vernon doesn’t know about Hogwarts, uh, what kind of a school it is.  You left so quickly; he went off to school soon after and we never got the chance.  Then your grandparents arrived and dad got, uh worried about them so we never said a word to Vernon.”  Holly continued to stare intently at the door.  Laurel waited with her some more before speaking again.  “I suppose being an, uh, Empath makes it possible for you to tell when a person is lying?”  
          This time Holly spoke.  “Sometimes.”  
          “And Vernon?”   
          “Vernon suddenly felt lots of guilt.  We had just been talking about Sasha so I knew it had to be about her…” replied Holly, still staring at the door.  Suddenly there came a thump and a yowl at the back door.  Holly leaped out of the chair and flew to the door.   
          “Sasha!” she squealed opening the door.  A flurry of grey jumped into Holly’s arms.  “You’re back, you’re back!” said Holly excitedly.  “I was so worried.”  Holly buried her face in Sasha’s fur.  Sasha purred so loudly that even Laurel could hear her.  When Holly finally lifted her face her expression was one of pure happiness.  She held Sasha protectively in her arms unwilling to let her go for even a minute.  She took Sasha to one of the kitchen chairs and sat down with her.  Sasha curled up into her lap purring loudly.  The two looked oblivious to the world, lost in each other’s company.  Laurel got up and moved about busily cleaning up the kitchen.   
          “Mum?”   
          Laurel looked over at Holly.  “Yes, dear?”     
          There were tears in Holly’s eyes.  “I can’t do it,” she confessed.  “I want to do it; I thought I could, but I can’t.  I just can’t.”  
          “Can’t what?” asked Laurel, confused.  
          “Go shopping,” replied Holly.  
          “What do you mean?  Of course you can go shopping.”  
          “No, I can’t,” stated Holly.  “I thought I could but I can’t.”  Then she explained further.  “You don’t take cats along when you shop.  I thought I could leave Sasha here while I shopped, but I can’t.  All those people, all those crowds, I just can’t.  I _need_ Sasha with me.  I’m sorry, mum.”  Holly buried her face in Sasha’s fur crying.   
          Laurel sat down next to Holly and gave her a comforting hug.  “It’s O.K. sweetie,” she said.  “We’ll think of something.”  Laurel sighed.  She knew it would be different when Holly returned.  But she hadn’t counted on this.  Laurel thought about the problem a bit.  Finally, she asked, “Does Sasha _have_ to be on your shoulder or your lap?”  
          “No, mum, just nearby.”  
          “Well, I have an idea that might work…”  Laurel got up and started towards the bedrooms.    
          Just then the kitchen door burst open.  “Well, I tried,” said Vernon loudly as he entered the kitchen.  “I started to open the cage and that cat shot out like a rocket!  I couldn’t find her anywh—” Vernon caught sight of Sasha curled up in Holly’s arms.  “Man,” he said, impressed.  “That cat must be part homing pigeon!”  Sasha took one look at Vernon, immediately began hissing and growling.  “Whoa!” said Vernon immediately backing up.   
          “It’s O.K., Sasha,” said Holly stroking her cat soothingly.  “This is my brother, Vernon.  He didn’t know you belonged to me.  He won’t do it again…  Right?”  Holly looked up at Vernon expectantly.   
          “Uh, right,” replied Vernon looking warily at Sasha.  Sasha quit hissing and growling; she settled warily back down on Holly’s lap but her ears remained flattened indicating extreme displeasure.  
          Laurel spoke up.  “Holly and I are going shopping…”  
          “But mom,” protested Holly, “I can’t—”  
          “Don’t you worry about that,” assured Laurel.  “As I was saying,” continued Laurel to Vernon, “Holly and I are going shopping.  Want to come along?”   
          Vernon eyed Laurel suspiciously.  “What kind of shopping?  Can we go to the game stores?”  
          “No.  We are shopping for some more clothes for Holly and that will take up all our time.”  
          Vernon made a face at the thought of clothes shopping.  “I think I’ll pass,” he replied.   
          Laurel smiled.  “Fine,” she said.  “Then I think this might be a good time to finish some of that schoolwork you have to do over the holidays…”  
          “Aw mum!”  
          “No argument,” replied Laurel sternly.  “And I don’t want you going out of the house until it is all done.  Understood?”  
          “Yes, ma’am,” said Vernon glumly.   
          “Good.  I’ll be checking on your work when we return.  Oh, and Vernon?”  
          “Yes mum?”  
          “I don’t like the idea of you selling animals, even strays, to get money.  It sounds very—” Laurel, hesitated choosing the right word, “repugnant.”  If you need more money let’s you, your father, and me sit down together and discuss some more respectable means of raising finances.  Understood?”  
          “Yes ma’am.”  Vernon looked truly unhappy at that news.   
          “Holly?”  Holly looked over at Laurel.  “Come with me.”  
          “Yes, mum.”  Holly, still holding Sasha, followed Laurel into the bedroom.  “Mum,” began Holly with a worried look on her face.  “I already told you—”  
          “Hush, dear,” said Laurel looking around the room,  “I know what you said.  Now where was it?  Oh, yes,” she moved to the closet,  “I’ve got an idea I think might work.”  Laurel said loudly as she rummaged on the shelves in the closet.  “Ah ha!” she said backing out of the closet.  She turned and held out a large tan leather bag with a snap-on flap and a shoulder strap.  “I got this as a gift several years ago.  Do you think your cat could fit into it and would be willing to stay inside?”   
          Holly took one look at the bag and her face turned into the sunniest smile.  “Oh mum, that’s brilliant!  Of course she will!”  Holly took the bag and unsnapped the flap.  Immediately Sasha jumped in fitting perfectly.  Then the cat crouched down in the bag and Holly snapped the flap closed.  “See?” said Holly holding up the bag happily.  “No cat!!!  This is perfect!  When do we leave?”  
          “As soon as possible,” replied Laurel.  “Let me get my things.”  Ten minutes later, the two of them were on the road to do some shopping. 

********************

          Once again Holly was a bubbling fountain of happiness.  Laurel Wycliff used the opportunity to ask her more questions about the last four months.  Little by little, on the road and between stores, Laurel learned the names of classmates and professors; she learned which professors were the strictest…  Holly was pretty vague about specifics until Laurel told her she already knew the names of the classes.  Then Holly opened up more and told Laurel all sorts of stories about exploding potions, flying on brooms and watching the stars at night.  Laurel suspected Holly still left out more than she told, but their conversations gave her a better feel about this school named Hogwarts.  Sasha remained quiet as a mouse inside the bag that Holly carried close to her side.  None of the other people ever realized a cat lurked anywhere near.   
          In one store, the two were discussing which color of sweater to purchase when Holly suddenly froze and started looking around the room.  
          “What is it, dear,” asked Laurel, concerned.  “What’s wrong?”  
          “Nothing, mum,” replied Holly, still looking around the room.  “It’s just…” She handed the bag with Sasha to Laurel.  “Would you hold this for a minute, please?”  Laurel took the bag wonderingly and watched as Holly stepped away from her and again started looking around the room.  Suddenly Holly made a beeline to the wall, grabbed an empty chair, and walked with it directly to the other side of the room where an elderly black lady stood in a long line waiting to pay for a purchase.  Laurel followed.  The lady wore a thick heavy green coat and carried an armload of things she intended to buy.  
          “Excuse me,” Holly said to the lady.  “But you don’t look too well, would you like a chair to sit down in while you wait?”   
          The lady turned to Holly, surprised at the question.  “I, uh, yes,” she said suddenly plopping down in the chair as if her legs would no longer hold her.  “Thank you.  How did you know?”   
          "Would you like some water too?” Holly asked politely while ignoring the question.   
          “Yes, that would be nice,” said the lady gratefully  
          Holly left the lady’s side and went to fetch some water.  The lady looked up at Laurel in appreciation.  “I was just beginning to feel a little dizzy when she turned up with that chair.  It was most timely.  We need more young people like that these days.”  
          “We’re very proud of her,” said Laurel not knowing what else to say.  Holly reappeared with a paper cup filled with water and handed it to the lady.   
          “Thank you,” said the lady.  “That was so thoughtful of you.”  
          “Are you feeling better now?” asked Holly softly with concern.  
          “Yes, I am,” said the lady smiling, “much better.  You’re a real lifesaver.”  
          “It was nothing,” said Holly shyly.  “I saw you needed help so I helped.  That’s all.”   
          The lady smiled and started rummaging around in her purse. “Here,” she said, “let me—”  
          “Oh no!” said Holly, backing quickly away.  “I couldn’t accept anything.  It’s the holidays; give it to someone who needs it.  Come on, mum,” said Holly dragging Laurel out of  the shop before the lady could say anything else.  
          “Nice to have met you.  Happy Holidays,” called out Laurel as they left the store.  
          “How did you do that?” asked Laurel when they were well away from the store.  
          “That’s what they’re teaching me at Hogwarts!” said Holly proudly.  “At first, all I could feel were lots of emotions.  I didn’t even know which were mine.  Then Sasha helped me  separate my feelings from others.  Madam Pomfrey has been trying to get me to identify specific feelings with their owners and lately, I have been able to tell directions.  I didn’t know if it would work with Muggles; their emotions don’t broadcast as strongly.  Madam Pomfrey says that now I can tell direction, she’ll teach me how to block.  Then I won’t need Sasha with me wherever I go…”  
          “You could feel that lady was going to faint?” asked Laurel, amazed.  
          “No, but I could feel somebody out there was getting really, really dizzy and _I_ felt about ready to faint...” replied Holly.  “Then it was a matter of figuring out whom and getting to her before she fell.  Madam Pomfrey says that Empaths make wonderful Healers,” continued Holly.  “Do you think that maybe I could become a Doctor?”   
          Laurel stared down in amazement at her daughter.  Holly, the Doctor; she had never before considered such a thing.  Then again,  “I don’t know why not,” Laurel replied proudly.  
          Holly smiled at the thought.  Then she spoke again.  “I’m a little tired, mum.  Do you think we could finish our shopping another day?”  
          “Of course, dear.”  So the two of them headed back to the car. 

********************

          On the way home Laurel spoke up.  “Tell me about Harry Potter, dear,” she said asking a question she had wanted to ask for some time.   
          Holly sat silently in the car, stroking Sasha for some time before answering.  “He’s nice, mum, I like him.”   
          “Yes,” agreed Laurel, “he does seem nice.  Tell me more.”   
          Holly thought, still stroking Sasha.  “I don’t really know him.”  
          “You know him better than I do.  You’ve been to his house; you’ve met his family; he took you shopping…”  
          “His house was, big.  I didn’t see it all.  I came in late at night; I left early to shop.  His wife and daughter were nice too; they went shopping with us.”   
          “Are they wizards?”   
          “Well, yeah, of course,” replied Holly, “but they weren’t weird or anything.”  
          “And the sons?”   
          “We’ve met.  They’re nice too.”  
          “Are they in Hufflepuff?”   
          “No, Gryffindor. That’s a different House,” explained Holly.  “I see them around, but we’re not close or anything.”  
          Laurel sighed.  This wasn’t getting her anywhere.  “Holly,” she said, “your dad hasn’t seen this Harry Potter in almost 20 years.  And apparently he didn’t know him very well even before then.  Though he’s a cousin, Harry’s pretty much a complete stranger.  Even now he keeps his distance.  But because of your grandparents, we’ve been forced to grant guardianship of you to him.  I need to know if we did the right thing.”   
          Holly was silent for a very long time considering Laurel’s words.  Finally she spoke.  “Mum,” said Holly quietly, “I can sense things.”  
          “Yes dear, I know.”  
          “I always could, but now I understand better what I am sensing.”  
          “Yes...”  
          “I haven’t seen much of Mr. Potter, and I don’t really know him, but when I am around him I don’t sense any—deceit.  He doesn’t say much, but I think you can trust him to keep his word and do what he says.”   
          Laurel nodded relieved.  She didn’t know much about Harry Potter either, but Holly’s words rang true with her own experiences with him.  She looked over at Holly and noticed she while she was still stroking Sasha, her body looked tense and her face looked as if there were more to say.  “What else, Holly?” she inquired.   
          “There is something else, but it doesn’t really have anything to do with whether or not _you_ can trust Mr. Potter.  It’s just sort of—about Mr. Potter…”  
          “That’s O.K.  I’d still like to know…”  
          “Well,” Holly hesitated some more.  Then she finally blurted.  “Harry Potter is really famous among the wizards.”   
          “Famous?”  Never, in all her wildest imagination had Laurel considered that.  
          “Yes,” continued Holly quickly.  “That guy, Lord Voldemort, well he was a really awful wizard terrorizing and killing everyone.  Harry Potter defeated him and saved hundreds of lives.”   
          “Really?”  
          “Uh huh!  He’s a big hero among the wizards; everyone respects him.  When we were out shopping, all sorts of people would call out, greet and wish him well.  Mr. Potter answered each one warmly in return.  At the time, I thought they were just being friendly, you know, a small community where everyone knows each other, but now I think it was something more.  He doesn’t talk much, but when he talks, people listen.”  
          “And Harry Potter killed this Voldemort guy?”   
          “That’s odd,” said Holly to herself.  “The spell Harry Potter used wasn’t a killing spell.”  Holly puzzled on this.  “I don’t know what exactly he did,” she concluded.  “But after the two faced off, Lord Voldemort wasn’t alive any more.”  
          “That’s interesting,” said Laurel.  “Maybe I’ll ask him about it.”  
          “Don’t,” said Holly.   
          “No?”  
          “Harry Potter doesn’t talk about his days fighting Lord Voldemort not even with his own family,” explained Holly.  “His own son, James, didn’t know what his dad had done until after he started attending Hogwarts.”  Holly stroked Sasha a few times before continuing.  “I asked Mr. Potter about being famous while we were at the station yesterday.  He said he didn’t feel famous, just lucky to be alive and, I felt—incredible sadness.  It may have happened almost 20 years ago, mum, but the memories are still very close to the surface for Mr. Potter.  It wouldn’t be right to bother him about it.”  
          “No,” agreed Laurel thoughtfully.  She turned the car into their driveway.  “The question has no relevance to today.  Mr. Potter and his family have been very kind to you and it wouldn’t be right to bother him about things of so long ago.”   
          Holly relaxed visibly.  “I knew you’d understand,” she said sitting back smiling.  “But I wanted to tell you about him.”  
          “I’m glad you did.” said Laurel, “But now that we’re home, why don’t you help me bring in all these bags and then let’s see if Vernon has completed his schoolwork.”   
         Holly laughed.  “I doubt it,” she said and followed Laurel into the house.

 


	11. Chapter 11

          Vernon Wycliff definitely had had better meals than that first night of Holly’s return.  Mum cooked all of Holly’s favorite foods as it was her welcome home dinner.   None of it Vernon particularly liked.  Then mum spent the whole meal talking about how much Holly had grown and how they had spent the whole day shopping for new things for Holly…  the stores were crowded; the streets were busy… Bor—ring!   
          All Vernon had to contribute to the conversation was how he had started his homework and hung around the house.  He hadn’t even finished his work (two research papers and a book report) before tiring and playing computer games instead.   
          On the plus side, at least mum hadn’t brought up the incident with the cat!  How was he supposed to know Holly had a cat?  He thought Holly was allergic to cats!  Holly had been scary when she thought the cat had been lost for good.  She hadn’t spoken to him once after the cat came back—not even to say “thanks.”  And that cat!  It lay curled up quietly under the table.  Periodically, it got up and rubbed its body affectionately against mum and dad purring loudly.  But whenever Vernon moved _his_ legs, the cat hissed or growled warningly…  
          When dinner ended, he found himself stuck back in his bedroom doing schoolwork…  Holly got to relax, watch the tube and play on the computer…  How was it Holly didn’t have any work to complete over the holidays?  It just wasn’t fair!  Vernon puzzled over it before deciding that the school Holly went to, whatever it was, just didn’t have as high standards and probably required a lot less of its students.  
          Around midnight, Vernon decided to call it quits.  The book he had to read for the book report was putting him to sleep.  He made a final trip to the WC and on the way back, noticed Holly’s light was still on.  That was strange.  Hadn’t his parents tucked Holly in ages ago?  He stopped and knocked on the door.  
          “Yes?” came Holly’s voice.  Vernon opened the door and stepped inside.  Holly sat on her bed reading a book.  She was fully dressed with the cat sitting next to her. The cat looked at him and immediately flattened its ears and began twitching its tail back and forth.  
          “I thought you already went to bed,” stated Vernon.   
          Holly shrugged.  “I couldn’t sleep,” she replied.  
          “I’m really sorry about your, um, cat, this morning.” The cat stared at him with slitted eyes and continued to twitch its tail ominously. If looks could kill, Vernon guessed he'd already be dead if the cat had anything to say about it.  
          Holly stared at him.  Her green eyes seemed to pierce right though him.  “I know,” she finally said.  
          “I’d like to make it up to you somehow,” added Vernon impulsively.   
          Holly stared at him again.  “You really mean that?” she asked.  
          “Well, um, yeah, I guess.”   
          Holly studied him some more before speaking.  “Then come with me tonight,” she said.  
          “Tonight?  What do you mean?”   
          “I’m going out for a while tonight.  You with me?”   
          Holly?  Going out at night?  At this hour?  “Why?” asked Vernon.  “What’s going on?”   
          Holly ignored his questions and instead got up off her bed.  She pulled a torch and a tire iron from beneath the covers and walked past him towards the door.  The cat jumped off the bed and followed her.   
          “Say, that’s dad’s iron!” said Vernon recognizing it.  “What are you planning to do with it?”   
          Holly again ignored his question.  “You coming?” she asked instead.  
          “Uh, yeah,” replied Vernon, his curiosity aroused.  He followed her to the living room.  Once there, Holly went to the closet and got out a thick warm coat with matching scarf, hat and gloves.  Vernon stared at her in astonishment.  The clothes looked brand new!  
          “You’ve been—” he started but Holly interrupted.  
          “Shhhh!” whispered Holly. “You’ll wake our parents.”  
          Vernon lowered his voice.  “You’ve been planning this all day!” he whispered.  
          “Kind of,” admitted Holly.  “It’s cold outside.  You might want to bundle up.”  
          Vernon grabbed his own winter wraps. “What the heck is going on?” he asked as he put them on.  
          “Later,” whispered Holly.  “Come on!”  She quietly opened the kitchen door and stepped outside.  Vernon followed.  It was cold and dark outside.  Their feet crunched quietly   on the ice as they walked away from their house.  Holly led the way with her torch—rather, the cat seemed to lead the way as Holly’s light shined on it as they walked.  Holly kept a fast pace and Vernon had to hurry to keep up with her.    
          Once they were clear of the house, Vernon tried again to find out what Holly was up to.  “O.K., Holly, we can talk now.  What is going on?” he asked.   
          Instead of answering, Holly asked a question of her own while they continued to walk quickly.  “Do you know what happens to the stray cats that are picked up off the streets  and sold like that?” she asked conversationally.   
          “I don’t know,” replied Vernon.  “They go to some animal shelter or something?  I never thought about it much.”  And he hadn’t.  Catching stray cats had only meant extra income to supplement his allowance.  
          “They go to trainers who train dogs to fight.”  
          “Huh?”   
          “They put the cats in sacks with only their legs sticking out and hang the sack in front of the dogs to help teach the dogs to fight and not be afraid.  The cats can’t see their attackers, can’t fight back and they can’t get away.  Sometimes they cut the claws off the cats put them in a room where the dogs can attack them.  Eventually the cats die—all of them.”  
          “That’s sick,” said Vernon.    
          Holly nodded.  “I agree,” she said.  “And while catching stray cats isn’t against the law, what gets done with them is.  It’s called cruelty to animals.  Dogfights are illegal, too.  It’s pretty disgusting; a bunch of adults standing around watching dogs get all bloody while fighting to the death.”  
          “What’s that got to do with us here?”   
          “We’re going to set the other cats free.”   
          “What?!!!” exclaimed Vernon pulling Holly to a stop.  “You can’t do that!  It’s ille—”  
          “Vernon,” explained Holly pulling free from him.  “You got my cat back for me and I thank you for that, but I can’t let the other cats be sent to such a horrible death, I just can’t.”  
          “But you don’t even know where they ar—” Vernon stopped.  He hadn’t realized it before, but they were indeed headed directly to the cat man’s house.  “How did you know where?”  He looked down at the cat.  Holly’s light shined on it and the cat sat innocently waiting for them to continue.  “You _are_ following the cat!” he said with wonder.  “How can you do that?  How does he do that?”  
          “She,” corrected Holly.  “She’s very smart.  Now, are you with me?”  She started walking again without waiting for an answer.  
          Vernon hurried to catch up with her.  “You’re crazy, sis!  You know that?  This is breaking and entering!  What if we get caught?”  
          “Then we get caught,” said Holly determinedly without slowing her step.  “But I’d rather not.  Mum and dad would hate the publicity.”  Holly stopped and looked up.  “There’s the house,” she announced.  Vernon looked up too.  It was indeed the house.  How did she know?  Holly turned to him.  “You want to go back home, that’s O.K. I’ll understand.  But I’m going on.”  
          Vernon looked at the house and then at the determination in Holly’s face.  “O.K. I’ll help you,” he told Holly.  “You’ll have a better chance of not getting caught with two.  But  I still say this is insane.”   
          Holly nodded.  “Thanks,” she said and started quietly towards the house.  
          “I have got to be out of my mind,” Vernon muttered as he followed Holly.  “The cats are in the garage,” he whispered to her.  “There’s a back door.”   
          “I know,” she said.  
          “How?” wondered Vernon out loud. Holly didn’t answer but kept on silently moving forward.  They reached the back door.   
          “You hold this,” said Holly handing the torch to Vernon.  Then she pulled out the tire iron and set it resolutely against the door lock.  
          "What do you think you're doing?" questioned Vernon apprehensively though he suspected he already knew the answer.  
          “I’m opening the door.  What do you think?” whispered Holly lifting the iron to try again.   
          “Have you ever done this kind of thing before?”  
          “Of course not, but it always works in the movies.”  Holly applied more force and the door creaked a bit before the iron slid off again.  She stopped and looked at Vernon.  “Can you do any better?”  Vernon almost answered but caught himself in time.  It was nothing that he’d care to admit.  Holly brought the crowbar up for a third try.   
          Vernon grabbed it from her hands.  “Let me,” he muttered.  Holly stood back while Vernon rammed the iron between the door and the jam.  “I hate to say it,” he began, giving the iron a quick twist.  “But I find it reassuring that you are so lousy at this.”  
          Holly watched the door as it swung open.  “I don’t think I should ask why you can open it so easily,” she said solemnly.  
          “Good idea,” agreed Vernon shortly.  “Now, let’s get this over with so we can get out of here!”  Holly lifted her torch and shined it around the room.  Despite being full of cages filled with cats, the garage was eerily quiet.  The cat eyes caught the light and glowed in the darkness.  All the cats seemed to watch the two.  “What do we do?” he asked.   
          “Open the cages,” instructed Holly.  She set the torch on a shelf to provide light and moved over to the closest cage.  She unlatched its door.  The three cats inside slipped silently out and vanished into the darkness.  She moved to the next cage.   
          Vernon opened some cages.  Those cats, too, jumped silently out…  More and more cages were opened; more and more cats ran quietly into the darkness.  Vernon found it weird how the cats were all so silent.  They had put up a loud yowling protest in the daytime when he had come to get Holly’s cat back.  It was as if they _knew_ they had to be quiet…  But that wasn’t possible, was it?  Finally, they got all the cages opened and all the cats had left racing through the open door.  “That’s it, then,” said Vernon.  “Can we go now?”   
          Holly stared at all the empty cages.  “If only there were some way to make sure they couldn’t be used as cages again…” she muttered thoughtfully.  Vernon looked closer at the cages.  Most were made of fairly cheap wire.  He grabbed one with his hands and pushed.  The sides crumpled in and the door hole twisted out of shape.   
          Holly smiled.  “That’s good,” she said approvingly.  “We could—” Suddenly she looked up.  “They’re waking!” she announced.  “Come on, we’ve got to go!  Now!  Hurry!”  Holly grabbed the tire iron, turned off her torch and practically pushed Vernon out of the garage.  
          “Wait a minute!” began Vernon.   “How do you know—” a light flashed on in the house.  Vernon shut up and ran with Holly seeking the cover of darkness.  The two ran stopping only when they were well out of sight of the house.  

********************

         Holly turned on her torch and looked around.  It had started to snow.  Holly looked up at the snow and smiled.  “The snow will hide any tracks we may have left,” she said.  “Come on.  Let’s get home.”  They started walking back.  
          Vernon noticed that Holly didn’t even seem winded by their run. “You used to be a scrawny weakling who could barely walk across the road without getting tired and now look at you,” he commented.  “What did they do with you at that school?”   
          “It wasn’t just school,” replied Holly.  “It was finding a doctor that actually knew what was wrong with me.  It’s a lot easier to do things when you don’t hurt all the time.  
          “So that doctor of Cousin Harry’s worked?”   
          Holly stopped and looked at Vernon in amazement.  “You know about that?”  
          “Well, yeah,” replied Vernon.  “Mum nearly chewed dad’s head off when Cousin Harry took you off to London.  You were so bad off that even Cousin Harry didn’t think you were going to make it.  Two days later you were up and about almost like normal—except you ate like a pig.  I’d have asked questions, but mum and dad were acting so weird it didn’t seem a good idea and then you were gone so fast I didn’t have the chance.  Besides, I had to get ready to go to my school.”   
          Holly looked at him thoughtfully.  “I had no idea,” she finally said.  Then she started walking again.   
          Vernon followed.  “Well, what’d you have?”   
          “That’s kind of complicated,” replied Holly still walking.  “I’ll explain it all to you some other time when I’m not so cold.”  She stopped and looked up.  “There’s our house.”  
          “About time,” commented Vernon.  “I’m pretty cold too.”   
          Holly turned off her torch and the two crept quietly back to the kitchen door.  Once inside they quickly hung up their wet clothes and tiptoed back towards their respective rooms.  Vernon felt something wet and cold push against him.  He looked down and saw the cat rubbing herself on his leg.  
          “I think Sasha has forgiven you,” whispered Holly with a smile.  “Thanks for your help.”  
          “No problem.  Uh, sis?”   
          “Yes?”  
          “Let me know if you plan to do another midnight trip…”  
          “I will.”

 ********************

          Holly woke to clear skies in the morning.  A light dusting of snow covered the yard and grounds outside.  Holly decided she had had enough of snow so after breakfast, decided to check on Vernon.  She had always known Vernon was a bit of a bully—known, but her mind was always so muddled at school she hadn’t cared.  Holly _had_ been a scrawny sick weakling.  Vernon kept other kids from bullying and teasing her; that made her days at school easier.  
          Seeing the ease that Vernon handled that tire iron made Holly wonder what other mischief Vernon had been up to.  Now that she could think clearly, Holly realized she didn’t want a bully for a brother.  She didn’t know what she could do to prevent it.  But she could at least try to keep him out of trouble during the holidays.  After all, anyone who braved the cold at midnight to rescue stray cats couldn’t be all bad.   Holly found Vernon in his room.  She knocked on his door.  
          “Yes?”   
          Holly opened the door and went inside.  Vernon was sitting at his desk typing on the computer.  Holly closed the door and sat down on the bed.  Sasha jumped up and curled  up on the bed besides her.  Holly stroked her absently while she watched Vernon.  “What are you doing?” she asked.  
          “School work,” he replied grumpily.  “Mum decided I had to get it all done before grandmum and granddad come to visit.”  He stopped writing and turned around to look at her.  “How come you don’t have any work to do?”  
          “All my assignment were due before the holidays,” replied Holly.   
          “Oh.”  Vernon returned to his work.  
          Holly watched him some more.  “You’re lucky,” she said.  “You get to use a computer.  We don’t get computers.  We have to do everything by hand in ink and no white out.  I  am so messy with ink.  My papers always look horrible even after I recopy them.”  _“If only,”_ Holly continued to herself, _“I could get the “erase” spell to work!”_   Vernon merely grunted and continued typing.  “How much more work do you have to do?” Holly asked.  
          “I’ve got one report finished and am almost done with this one,” replied Vernon.  He pressed a button decisively and said.  “There, this one is done too.”  The printer started to print turning out several pages.  When the printer stopped Vernon grabbed the pages and stapled them together.  “The only thing left is the book report.  I already looked at the book and it’s really boring.  The first page practically put me to sleep.”  Vernon sighed.  “I’ve been thinking of doing some on-line research on the book and making my report that way.”  
          “Don’t do that,” said Holly. “That would be cheating.  Teachers always know when you cheat.”  
          “Yeah?” said Vernon.  “Well the alternative is falling asleep over every other word.  And then I’ll never get the book read or the report finished.”  
          “What book?”  
          Vernon leaned over, pulled a book off the shelf and tossed it to Holly.   
          Holly looked at it.  It was a medium sized book with a brown cover and gold lettering on the front.  _“Oliver Twist?”_ she asked.  
          “Yeah, as if I want to read about some hungry orphan.”  
          “We had to read a book by Charles Dickens too,” said Holly.  
          “Yeah?  What?”   
_“A Christmas Carol.”_    
          “That’s not so long and at least it’s about ghosts and things,” commented Vernon.  
          “Yeah, the story wasn’t so bad.  Then Professor Binns had us all write a 5 fo—uh 5 page analysis of the probability of fact or fiction in the story.”  
          “Huh?”  
          “You know: were people really that poor?  Did people actually work long hours without holidays?  Can ghosts really foretell the future and transport people into the past?”   
          Vernon stared at Holly.  Holly kept her face perfectly neutral.  She was curious to see how he’d react.  “Good one!” he finally laughed.  “Did you include that in your paper?”   
          Holly nodded.  “It filled the pages,” she said blandly.  “I argued that ghosts have no more ability to tell the future than any person.”  
          Vernon laughed again.  “What’d you get on your paper?”  
          “I don’t know.  I’ll get it back after the holidays.”  
          “Well, it was certainly creative,” smiled Vernon.   
          Holly nodded.  “You know,” she said thoughtfully fingering Vernon’s book.  “They told me at school that Charles Dickens meant his stories to be read out loud.  It’s not that big, maybe you and me can read it out loud together—you know, alternate chapters—I read one and then you read one?”  
          “You’d do that with me?”  
          “Sure.  I may get stuck with the book next year.”  
          “You think it would work?”  
          “It doesn’t hurt to try.”   
          So the two spent the rest of the day reading chapters of _Oliver Twist_ to each other out loud.  By noon, Vernon agreed that reading the book out loud was definitely more interesting than reading it silently.  By dinner Vernon decided that Fagin and the Artful Dodger were pretty interesting characters and spent the mealtime describing the story, so far, to his parents.  He and Holly stayed up late that night reading the book and made considerable progress in the book when they finally quit for bed.  By the end of the third day Oliver had found a new family and Vernon had completed his book report.

********************

          Holly was awakened by the sound of a sharp knocking on the front door early the next morning.  Vaguely she heard her mum answer the door.  “Mrs. Wycliff!  Mr. Wycliff!” she heard her mother say.  “Mum! Dad! What are you doing here?  I was expecting you tomorrow!”  
          “I just couldn’t wait another day to see my favorite grandchildren,” came the response from a voice Holly recognized.   
           Without thinking, Holly jumped out of bed and ran into the living room. "Grandmum! Grandpa!!" she squealed running into Grandmum's arms. "I've missed you so!"  
              “There’s my little Holly,” said Grandmother Wycliff wrapping Holly in a warm hug.  “My goodness, you’ve grown.  See Laurel?” said Grandmum,  “I was right.  You’ve been way too protective.  Sending Holly off to school was the best thing for her.  Let me look at you!” said Grandma to Holly setting her down.  Holly looked up at Grandma Wycliff smiling happily.  Suddenly everything went cold.  
          “Grandmum!  Granddad!”  Vernon’s voice sounded next to Holly.  Grandmum turned her attention to Vernon and the warm loving emotions returned as if they had always been  there.   
          Holly looked down.  Everything was wrong, horribly wrong!  “I gotta go get dressed.”  She mumbled and ran to her bedroom.  Holly curled up under her covers on the bed.  Sasha huddled next to her purring anxiously.  Grandmum hated her!  It had only been an instant of coldness but Holly knew with awful certainty that Grandmum hated her.  But why????   There had been no mention of Harry Potter or Hogwarts.  What was wrong?  After a long while, there came a knock on the door.   
          “Holly?  Sis?” came Vernon’s voice.  “It’s time for breakfast.”  
          “I’m not hungry,” said Holly from under the covers.  “Go away.”   
          A while later a second knock sounded at the door.  “Holly?  Holly, honey?” came the voice of Holly’s mother.  “May I come in?”  Without waiting for an answer her mother  entered the room and shut the door behind her.  “What’s wrong, dear,” began her mother, “are you well?”   
          Holly poked her head out of the covers.  Her face was wet with tears.  “I can’t go out there,” she sobbed.  “Grandmum hates me.”  
          “What?” said her mum surprised.  “Of course she doesn’t.”  Her mother sat down on the bed besides Holly.  “What makes you say that?”  
          “I know,” sobbed Holly.  “I just know.”   
          Laurel Wycliff hugged Holly tightly.  “How can you think that?” she said.  “There hasn’t been any mention of Hogwarts or anything,” she continued.  “Your grandmother barely saw you.”  Holly just sobbed some more.  Laurel continued to hug Holly while she cried.  Finally, her mum asked in a quiet voice.  “Does this have anything to do with the way you knew Vernon wasn’t telling all he knew about Sasha?”   
          Holly nodded.  Through her tears she spoke.  “Everything was fine at first.  Grandmum was just like she always was.  Then, when she looked at me, she suddenly went horribly cold! Her emotions were--" Holly paused trying to put words to what she had felt, "just awful!" Holly shivered remembering.  "It was only for a moment,” Holly added.  “Then she looked at Vernon and everything was all right again.  Maybe it was all so quick she won’t remember what she thought, but I know if she sees me again…”  
          “I don’t understand.  What could have happened?”  
          “It could only be one thing,” sniffed Holly.  “It’s me!”  
          “Of course not,” her mom argued.  “She loves you.  She’s always loved you.”  
          “Not _me_ , me,” corrected Holly, “but me anyway.”  
          “What do you mean?”  
          “Harry Potter’s mum, her name was Lily.  She was Grandmum’s sister.  Did you know she had a sister?”  
          “After we met Harry Potter, I assumed she must.  But no, I didn’t know before then.”  
          “She died when Harry Potter was only one.  But Lily went to Hogwarts, too.  Everyone who knew Lily says I look a lot like her.  Don’t you see?  It’s not Hogwarts and Harry Potter  that Grandmother really hates, but her sister Lily!!!”  
          “But your Grandmother has seen you hundreds of times.  She’s never mentioned a similarity before!  Why now all of the sudden?”  
          “Well,” said Holly thoughtfully,  “I’ve always been kind of sick.  Wizard kids are rarely sick.  This is probably the first time grandmum has seen me when I was actually well!  And now I look like, like _Lily!_ ”  Holly broke out into a new bout of sobs.  “Mum, what’ll I do?”   
          Laurel sighed.  “Oh Holly, this has been a rough year for you.”  Laurel rocked Holly while she cried.  “Don’t worry,” she said stroking Holly’s long hair, “we’ll think of something.”  After a while Laurel said, “I have an idea that may work, at least for a while.  You get yourself dressed, Holly, we’re going out.”  Laurel got up and left the room.  Holly slowly dressed.  A few minutes later her mom returned carrying a purple and white striped knitted tam with a white puffball on top.   
          “Now,” she said.  “Tuck all your hair under this tam.  Maybe your grandma will look more at it than you when we leave.  Get Sasha in her bag, too.  I don’t think now is a good time to introduce her.”  Holly did as she was told and soon stood hesitantly at her door ready to go out.  “I’ll go first and make our excuses to your grandparents,” said Laurel.  “You meet me at the car,” she commanded.  Laurel went into the kitchen and Holly headed straight for the front door.  In the background, she could hear her mum talking to her grandparents.  Holly, keeping her head down, walked to the car and got inside.   
          A minute later, Vernon came out of the house.  He looked worried.  He tapped on the window and Holly rolled it down so they could talk. “You O.K.?” he asked.  
          “I’m fine.”  
          “Mum said you had an appointment with the hair-dresser and didn’t want anyone to see you before.  You didn’t have a hair appointment.  What’s going on?”  
          “Just go along with it, Vernon, please?  I’ll explain later.”  
          “O.K.,” he said still looking worried.   
          “Oh, and Vernon,” Holly had just thought of something else, something important.  
          “Yes?”  
          “Remember how mum and dad didn’t tell you about my cat?”  Vernon nodded.  “Well there are a few things they didn’t tell our grandparents either.”  Holly could see everyone coming outside now so she continued in a rush before she could be overheard.  “Please, please, PLEASE, don’t tell them how sick I was over the summer or the doctors, or my cat or anything.  And especially don’t mention Cousin Harry.”  Grandma and Grandpa Wycliff neared the car to see them off.  Holly added quickly in a whisper.  “I swear I’ll explain everything when I get back, O.K?”  
          “O.K.,” said Vernon looking confused.  He backed away so the grandparents could move up.   
          Laurel got into the car and started the engine.  “We’ll be back soon,” she called out.  
          “Bye-bye sweetie,” said Grandmum lovingly.  “I can’t wait to see your new look.”  
          Holly waved at them but kept her head down; she didn’t feel any of that cold hatred this time.  Maybe the hair trip would work.    
          Three hours later the two returned.  Holly sported a brand new bob.  She had bangs; her hair was cut short and curled close to her face.  She wore a stylish blue plaid tam on top that matched a brand new outfit.  Grandmother Wycliff welcomed her granddaughter with open arms as she had always before, wondering vaguely why she hadn’t felt so loving when they first encountered. 

********************

          Of all the family meals he had had at this house, reflected Vernon Wycliff, as he got ready for bed, tonight with his grandparents, this last one was definitely one of the weirdest.  True, that first night when Holly returned from school was pretty bad with that cat of hers hissing at him under the table.  And that night they had dinner with Cousin Harry, that was pretty weird, too.  Vernon had spent the whole evening discussing the dead lady next door…  He had known that dead bodies were not appropriate table conversation, especially with a guest for dinner and the weirdest part was nobody _stopped_ him!  But tonight, that was the weirdest yet.   
          It had started with that crazy haircut of Holly.  When Holly came back from school, she looked different, better, but still Holly.  When she returned with that haircut, she didn’t look like Holly at all!  Not that Grandma and Granddad had noticed.  But dad did the moment he got home from work.  When he saw that haircut he nearly bust a gasket!  Then mum had whispered something in his ear and dad settled down but he looked terribly upset the rest of the evening, not that his grandparents noticed that either.  They were set in their ways and not too observant.  
          Dinner conversation settled around school activities.  Listening in, Vernon began to realize that not only had mum and dad failed to mention some things to his grandparents; they also seemed to have given out incorrect information.  
          His grandparents seemed to think Holly was attending a finishing school!  Some place called _Aunt Hillary’s Private Finishing School for Young Ladies_.  Even though Vernon couldn’t specifically remember the name of the school mum mentioned last September, it definitely wasn’t _Aunt Hillary’s Private Finishing School for Young Ladies_.  But no one corrected his grandparents when they used the wrong name, not even Holly and who should know better than her?  
          Vernon opened his mouth to correct them but Holly caught his eyes.  She had that same desperate look she had before she left to get her haircut.  She didn’t say a thing but shook her head ever so slightly.  Vernon closed his mouth and looked over at his parents.  They both acted as if the strange school name was absolutely normal.  That was when Vernon realized his grandparents were _supposed_ to believe _Aunt Hillary’s Private Finishing School for Young Ladies_ was the name of Holly’s school.  Seriously weird.  
          His grandparents were also convinced that Holly’s return to health was solely due to the fresh air, good food and exercise found at _Aunt Hillary’s Private Finishing School for Young Ladies_.  That was definitely not true especially as Holly was up and much improved _before_ she took off with Cousin Harry for school.  Again, no one, not even Holly, disagreed with his Grandparents.  He looked over at Holly.  She again shook her head, imploring him to stay silent, so Vernon kept quiet.  Why all the lies?  Holly promised to explain everything later.  Vernon mentally added _strange dinner_ _lies_ to the list of things she needed to explain.  Then he had waited to see what else would happen.  
          Conversation turned to the classes Holly had taken.  She vaguely mentioned taking Step Aerobics for Physical Education, Charms, whatever that was (the name seemed to please Grandmum) Astronomy, Cooking, History and the Study of Herbs.  That’s when mum mentioned that Holly took choir too.   
          “Oh?” said Grandmum, pleased.  “Could you sing us something?”  Holly obediently opened her mouth and began to sing.  She had a beautiful voice.  Vernon never before realized Holly could sing.  The song she sang had a haunting melody with words that said something about witches and ghosts.  Vernon glanced around the table while she sang and couldn’t believe what he saw.  Everyone else had frozen—they stared, open mouthed, at Holly while she sang.  Grandmum and Granddad’s forks were held suspended in midair; Vernon watched as food dropped off their forks onto the plates unnoticed.   
          Everyone continued to stare open mouthed at Holly even after she finished.  Holly looked around the table—at all the staring faces.  “It was for Halloween,” she mumbled quickly looking down and taking another bite of food.  
          “I like Halloween,” spoke up Vernon loudly breaking the strange silence.  “I get lots of candy then.”  At his words his parents and grandparents closed their mouths, looked again at their own food and returned to eating.  Standard table noises returned.  No one asked Holly any more questions about school.  Vernon added _Halloween songs_ to his list of explanations needed.  
          Mum then mentioned how she had run into a neighbor who told her that there had been a break-in of some sort at the end of the neighborhood.  Vernon had immediately pretended a great interest in his food looking studiously down while he ate.  Out of the corner of his eye he noted that Holly did the same.  Granddad loudly complained how neighborhoods just weren’t safe like they used to be—that there were hoodlums everywhere now days.  Grandmum commented how glad she was that her two darling grandchildren were fine upstanding people and she never had to worry they would turn out _that_  way.  Vernon and Holly just kind of bobbed their heads up and down in aparant agreement and kept on eating...    
          Vernon was very glad the meal had ended.  But then, after dinner, Granddad hauled in a huge suitcase filled with videos of their cruise around the world.  Grandmum had been entering contests ever since Vernon could remember—off cereal boxes, on the radio, out of newspapers, all sorts of promotionals wherever she could find them.  
          Last Spring, she had actually won!  It was a contest sponsored by the Tasty Tooth Brightener Company.  Grandma had submitted her name, along with the required 40 proof-of-purchases, even though they decided they hated the flavor of Tasty Tooth Brightener, to the _Help Brighten the World—Round the World Tooth_ Contest.  Out of several thousand entries, hers was the name drawn!  Never mind that the cruise started in Australia and they had to provide their own ticket to Sidney, or that they had to pose for promotional photos at each port along the way, a three-month cruise around the world was just too good an opportunity to miss.  Vernon remembered waving “good-bye” to his grandparents with Holly last June when they caught their flight to Sidney.  They were so excited.  That was before Holly had quit eating.  
          The family dutifully gathered together in the darkened room to watch the videos.  It was grandmum and granddad’s first time to use a video camera.  It showed in their filming.  The pictures often bounced up and down as if held by unsteady hands.  Many times fingers and hands obscured the image.  Sometimes they got a view of the ground as his grandparents walked from place to place forgetting to hold the camera up or turn it off…  
          Grandmum was average sized and a bit boney so one could usually see the sights behind her when Granddad held the camera.  But any image of Granddad, being seriously overweight, usually filled the screen blotting out background scenery.  Sometimes they accidentally hit the zoom feature and the screen would fill with an arm, leg, chest, belly or some other body part.  None of this bothered Grandmum and Granddad as they enthusiastically described what the family was seeing or, should have been seeing.   
          Vernon could take only so much bad video; he slipped quietly out of the room returning with a handheld computer game.  He noticed upon his return that Holly seemed to be hanging on to every word.  She sat in a corner staring at the tube with her cat on her lap—come to think of it where had that cat been all day?  Yesterday, that cat stuck so close to Holly she could have been tied to her.  Today he had forgotten there even was a cat in the house.   
          After three hours of video, Grandmum decided it was time for bed and the lights came on.  Vernon quickly hid his computer game.  Mum looked relieved to be able to stretch and get up.  Dad’s face still had that same sad look he had had since he first saw Holly’s haircut.  He probably had stared at Holly’s hair all evening.   
          Only Holly looked thoroughly happy.  She got up and hugged her grandparents.  “That was terrific!” she said enthusiastically.  “Can we see the rest tomorrow?”  
          Vernon noticed the cat had vanished again.  Strange how that cat had stayed quiet and hidden all day coming out only when it was too dark to be easily seen.     
          “Why sure, dear,” agreed grandmum, pleased their video efforts were so well received.  Then she and Granddad kissed Holly “Good-night.”   
          Vernon gave each of them a hug and kiss, too.  And everybody went off to their rooms.  Yes, reflected Vernon, as he got into bed.  It had been one weird dinner, a rather strange evening too.  Had Holly _really_ enjoyed three hours of poor home videos?  He couldn’t wait to get her alone for some answers.

********************

          Dillon came into Holly’s room that night and sat on her bed.  The lights were out and Holly had already been tucked in for the night.  “Your beautiful hair,” he said sadly, stroking what was left of Holly’s long blonde hair.  “I never meant that to happen.”   
          Holly sat up.  “It’s O.K., daddy,” she said.  “It’ll grow back.”  
          Dillon pulled Holly into his arms and hugged her tight.  “I never met Aunt Lily,” he continued apologetically.  “I’ve never even seen her photo.  I didn’t know…”  
          “Daddy,” repeated Holly, snuggling in his arms.  “It’s O.K., really.  I don’t mind.”  
          “All those lies tonight,” Dillon continued.  “It wasn’t right.  We shouldn’t have done it.  I was so worried about my parents that I didn’t see what it would do to you—to all of us.  I’m going to tell them,” he finished with determination.  
          “Daddy?” spoke Holly.  “You were right.”  
          “Huh?”  
          “You were right.  There’ll be a big fight when you tell them.  Just like you thought.  It’s the holidays,” continued Holly.  “Families shouldn’t fight during the holidays.  Your parents won’t be here long.  We can do it for now.  Tell them this summer.”   
          Dillon looked down into Holly’s eyes and her earnest face.  “You sure?”  
          “I’m sure.”   
          “I love you, Holly.”  
          “I love you too.”  Holly unwrapped herself from his arms and lay back into bed.   
          Dillon tucked her in again.  “Good night, baby,” he said.  
          “Good night, daddy.”   
          Dillon sat with Holly until her deep, even breathing told him she had fallen to sleep.  He remained with her a long time after; sitting in the dark, thinking. Finally, Dillon stood and left the room closing the door softly behind him.

 


	12. Chapter 12

          The next day was Christmas Eve.  Dillon had the day off.  He took his parents out to select a tree to bring home and decorate.  Laurel was in her bedroom wrapping presents.  Holly was in her room, also wrapping presents.  Sasha was on the floor playing with fallen ribbons.  Holly heard a soft knock on her bedroom door.  She hastily hid the unwrapped presents and said, “Yes?”   
          Vernon entered and closed the door behind him.  He sat down on the bed next to Holly and looked around the room.  His eyes lit on the snow globe sitting on one of the shelves.  He reached over and grabbed it.  “This is new,” he commented.  “Where’d you get it?”  
          “Cousin Harry gave it to me for Christmas,” replied Holly, still wrapping.  Vernon shook the globe and watched the snow swirl.  
          “Is it a real castle or make believe?” he asked shaking it again.  
          “It’s real,” replied Holly, “from someplace up North,” she added vaguely.  
          “Oh.”  Vernon watched the snow slowly land on the grounds and roof.  “It looks huge, cold and remote.”   
          Holly nodded.  “Haunted too,” she added.   
          Vernon looked at Holly in surprise and then laughed.  “You have one heck of an imagination,” he said as he put the globe back on the shelf.  Then he got serious.  “So tell me what’s going on around here—you promised, remember?”   
          Holly nodded slowly not knowing how to begin or exactly what to say.  “Grandmum and granddad don’t like Cousin Harry.”  She began while attaching a bow to her package.  “They don’t like him or anything connected to him.  I mean, _really_ don’t like him.  If they found out that dad went to Cousin Harry for help when I got so sick and that it was Cousin Harry that found the doctors who made me better—they would be very, very angry.”   
          “That doesn’t make sense,” said Vernon.  “I mean, if he found someone to make you well and no one else could…  They should be thankful.”  
          “I agree,” said Holly.  “But dad doesn’t think they will be and I guess he knows his parents better than us.”   
          Vernon thought about that a moment.  Then he asked.  “So why’d they change the school name?  I _know_ you weren’t going to some finishing school.”   
          Holly took a deep breath before speaking.  “The school I am attending is the same one Cousin Harry attended when he was young.  They have people there who know how to deal with whatever it is I’ve got.  Grandmum and Granddad don’t like the school, either,” Holly added quickly before Vernon could ask what had been wrong with her.  “If they knew I was attending that particular school, they would know for sure that dad had been in touch with Cousin Harry.”   
          Vernon considered this.  “That’s sad,” he said finally.  “I mean Cousin Harry didn’t seem all that bad to be making this kind of a fuss.  Why don’t they like him?”   
          “I don’t exactly know why.  Dad doesn’t talk about it.  Just that they do.  That’s why we’ve never heard of Harry before.”  
          Vernon nodded, understanding.  Then he asked.  “So what about the haircut?  That wasn’t part of any plan.”   
          Holly put her now finished package on the shelf before speaking.  “Grandma had a sister named Lily,” she began slowly.  “Cousin Harry’s mum.  I’ve seen pictures of her.  She looks a lot like me, now that I’m not sick any more.  I didn’t want grandma to look at me and think of Lily or anything to do with Cousin Harry,” she finished.  
          “That’s pretty extreme, don’t you think?  I mean, you’re Holly, not some Lily.”  
          “True,” agreed Holly, “but I didn’t want anything to possibly ruin the holidays.  My hair will grow back.”  
          “So why did everyone act so weird when you sang that song?”   
          “Were they?”  
          “Yeah,” confirmed Vernon.  
          Holly shrugged. “You know mum and dad have never liked wizards and witches and stuff.  I don’t suppose our grandparents do either.  I probably should have sung something else but it was the first song I could think of when Grandmum asked me to sing.”   
          Vernon eyed her suspiciously.  That response didn’t sound quite right.  He’d never before seen them stare like that at anything—even around Halloween.  That they should do so now…  “You telling me everything?”   
          Holly was silent a long time before answering.  “No,” she said finally.  “But I have to ask Cousin Harry something before I say any more.”   
          Suddenly they heard the sound of the front door opening. “We’re back!” shouted dad.  “Come see the tree we picked out!”   
          Holly and Vernon left the bedroom and went to the entryway to see the tree.  It was a fine huge tree that would easily fill one corner of the living room.  The two spent the rest of the afternoon setting up and trimming the tree.  A final spray of canned snow and tree twinkled majestically with blinking lights, glittering tinsel and sparkling ornaments.  Packages in brightly colored paper started appearing underneath the tree in preparation for the next day.   
          At dinner, Grandma and Granddad Wycliff described their adventures selecting the perfect tree.  “Would you believe, three other families wanted this very tree and we had to rush to get to it first!” she related proudly.  “…And those last minute holiday shoppers were so rude bumping into us all the time.  You’d think they’d know to get out of the way when someone with a lot of packages comes through.”   
And then the lines were so long!” complained Granddad.  “We were lucky to get in and out as fast as we did.  Of course,” he added, “you can’t give an inch when you are driving or you’ll be stuck in the same place forever.  Dodging all the last minute holiday traffic rush can be murder!”  
          After dinner, the family settled down for another evening of home videos.  Holly insisted.   
          Vernon groaned, annoyed that she had remembered.  “You can’t seriously want to watch some more of those videos?” he asked her as Grandmum and Granddad bustled around getting things ready.  
          “Actually, yes.”  Then Holly continued, “ _You_ got a summer vacation.  I don’t remember much of _my_ summer at all.  Listening to their travels is almost like being there with them.  It’s almost like I took a summer trip too.”  
          “You’re crazy!” muttered Vernon and went into his bedroom to grab a few more game cartridges before the video started.  As before, Holly watched with rapt attention.  By the time the videos ended, nearly three hours later, everyone, except Holly, looked ready for bed.  Vernon hastily shut off and hid his computer game when the lights came back on.   
          Holly sat back, closed her eyes and had an expression of utter bliss on her face.  She went up to her grandmum and said, “You can’t know how much it means to me to be able to share in your trip.  It was like I was there.”  She hugged her and gave her a big kiss on the cheek.  “Thank you,” she said emphatically.  
          “Well,” said Grandmum Wycliff, touched by Holly’s obvious sincerity.  “We’re glad you could watch them with us.”  She wiped a tear from her eye and kissed Holly back.  Holly hugged and kissed Granddad too and went happily off to bed.

********************

          Christmas Day dawned bright, cold and crisp.  A layer of frost covered the windows.  Holly and Vernon eagerly unwrapped their presents.  Holly got mostly clothes and some jewelry.  Laurel had noticed the charm bracelet Holly always wore so got her a small silver charm of a cat.  Holly smiled her appreciation and quickly attached it to her bracelet; Vernon got lots of computer games.  He couldn’t wait to try them out.  Laurel had helped Holly pick out gifts on their day out shopping.  Holly gave Vernon a soccer ball and her dad a soft wool scarf.  For her grandma, Holly had selected a flashy pin, a bird in flight covered in rhinestones and she got granddad a matching rhinestone tie clip.  They both seemed to appreciate her gifts.  Afterwards, Grandma Wycliff presented each grandchild with a Christmas envelope.  Inside contained a Christmas gift of two crisp new twenty pound notes.  
          "Buy yourself something nice at your school,” insisted Grandma Wycliff to her two grandchildren.   
          “No way!” said Vernon excitedly.  “I’m going to get more games now!  Thanks ever Grandma and Granddad!”   
          Holly tucked her money away in her bag.  “Thank-you so much,” she said, her green eyes shining.  “That was so thoughtful of you.  I’ll find something special to spend it on.”  She gave them each a warm hug and kiss.  Her embrace was warmly returned.   
          Dillon got out the camera and tripod and insisted on a family photo.  He took several poses of a smiling family with the Christmas tree in the background.  He and Laurel stood in back, Grandma and Granddad Wycliff stood proudly on each side with Holly and Vernon in between.   
          When Dillon finally decided he had enough photos, Holly whispered in his ear, “Pick out a nice pose and frame it for me, daddy!  I don’t ever want to forget this Christmas.”   
          “Sure thing, baby,” replied Dillon.  What a sweet thing for her to request.  Then Dillon felt a lump in his throat.  Holly probably realized, as did he, that this may well be the last time they were all together—once his parents found out about Hogwarts, everything would be very different.

********************

          Bright and early the next day Grandmum and Granddad Wycliff packed up their bags and headed off.  “It was time to check on their house and plants,” they said.  Actually, they were probably going to visit Aunt Marge.   
          Outside of Harry Potter, Dillon reflected, Aunt Marge was the only person who still knew them as the Dursleys.  The family had barely driven off, that fateful day some 20 years ago, when Vernon, his dad, had remembered his older sister, Marge.  No way, dad insisted, was he driving off to a new life if it meant giving up his sister.  He even stopped the car and threatened to drive back to Privet Street if whatever planned meant his sister wouldn’t recognize him and he could never see her again.   
          But the plans hadn’t included Aunt Marge and they couldn’t be changed to include her.  It took much discussion, arguments and numerous assurances on Vernon’s part that Marge wouldn’t tell.  “Who would she tell,” dad maintained, “Marge had never known Harry was a wizard and didn’t like him anyway.”  Finally, the spells had been cast and somehow they did not include Marge.   
          Of course, the Dursleys had to explain to Aunt Marge why they had moved and changed their names.  That had been easy.  Vernon (senior) told Marge that Harry had turned into a vicious mass murderer.  Vernon said the Dursleys had turned Harry in after his last murderous rampage and Harry vowed revenge on the family.  Of course, Harry was behind bars now, but they had gone into hiding anyway to escape the shame of being related to ‘someone like that’ and to be safe, just in case Harry managed to break out.  Aunt Marge bought the story easily.  “After all,” she always said, “Blood will tell…”  It was a good thing Harry had not thought to go to Aunt Marge to find them, Aunt Marge would have screamed in panic and immediately called the authorities.   
          Aunt Marge had come to Dillon’s wedding.  She had gotten a bit tipsy and started confusing everyone’s names.  No one really took notice of it seeing as how much champagne she had consumed.  But lately, her memory wasn’t as good and she often slipped with the names.  Dillon hadn’t taken his family to visit Aunt Marge in ages for fear of what she might say, not that it mattered much now that Laurel knew their secret.  Mom and dad liked to visit Marge privately so if she slipped up on the names, it wouldn’t cause embarrassing questions.  
          Before they drove off, Dillon had whispered in dad’s ear, “Give Aunt Marge our love.”  Dad just smiled and nodded.  It was kind of good having things out about Harry Potter.  At least now Dillon could tell Laurel about Aunt Marge…  On second thought, maybe he shouldn’t; Laurel might not understand about the mass murderer part.  
          Something rubbed against his leg.  Dillon looked down to see a gray cat twining around his legs.  Holly had come to stand next to him.  “Your cat,” he said with surprise.  “I had forgotten it was here.  How did it do that?”   
          “She,” corrected Holly automatically.  “Sasha is a very smart cat.”  Holly slipped her hand into Dillon’s and the two watched his parents’ car turn the corner and vanish from view.  It had been good to see them but everyone breathed a sigh of relief now that they had gone.

********************

          Vernon was up to something.  Holly could feel that same sensation of guilt she had felt when she and her mum were questioning Vernon about her cat.  It got stronger as she neared his room.  Holly knocked on his door.   
          “Go away,” came the response.  “I’m busy.”  Holly ignored the command, opened the door and came on in.  Sasha trailed in behind her.  Vernon was sitting at his desk writing.  but immediately started to hide the paper he was writing on the moment Holly stepped into his room.   
          Holly was quicker.  She snatched the paper from his hands backed up and held it out of his reach as he tried to get it back.  “What are you doing?” she asked.  
          “Nothing,” sputtered Vernon reaching for the paper.  “Give it back, that’s mine!”   
          Holly scrambled onto Vernon’s bed and stood in the corner holding the paper up high to keep it away from him; Vernon jumped onto the bed chasing after Holly.  Sasha leaped on to the bed tangling herself between Vernon’s legs keeping him from Holly.  Holly used the opportunity to look at the paper.  It had a single name scrawled all over it.  Holly recognized it.  “That’s dad’s signature,” she announced surprised.  And then with sudden realization, “you’re trying to forge his name!”   
          Vernon quit trying to get the paper.  There was no point in it now.  It’s secret was out.  “Give that back to me!” he commanded.  “It’s mine.”  
          “What’s going on?” demanded Holly.   
          “None of your business,” muttered Vernon, his head bowed down.  
          “You tell me now, or I take this paper to dad and let you explain it all to him!”  Vernon said nothing but finally turned to his desk.  He rummaged though his papers and handed one of them to Holly.  Holly took the paper with her free hand and read what was written on it.  She looked up and spoke, “This says that you are on three months probation at school!”  Vernon said nothing.  “Why?”  
          Vernon shrugged.  “I don’t know,” he mumbled.  Holly just stared at him, her green eyes never wavering.  Vernon finally wilted under her stare and responded.  “They think I broke into the main office and stole some tests…”  
          “Did you?”  
          “No!  Of course not!” protested Vernon.  
          “Did you tell them that?”  
          “Of course I told them that.”  
          “So why don’t they believe you?”   
          “I don’t know!”  Holly said nothing but stared at him again with those green eyes.  Vernon gave in and spoke some more.  “Because it isn’t the first time...”  Holly kept on staring at him willing him to continue.  “Some friends and I kind of broke into the office last Spring…but we didn’t mean anything by it!  It was only a joke to see if we could do it.  We didn’t take anything!”  
          “That where you learned how to use a tire iron?”  
          “Sort of,” Vernon mumbled.  “But I promised dad last year that I wouldn’t do it again and I didn’t.  It was too scary getting caught.”  
          “So what happened?”   
          “Well, I was in my room and one of my friends came by and asked me if I wanted to come along…  I said “No.”  That’s all.  I guess they went anyway.”  
          “Did you tell the school officials that?”  
          “Of course not!” said Vernon emphatically.  “You don’t rat on friends.”   
          Holly considered this.  “Are they on probation too?” she finally asked.   
          “No,” said Vernon.  “I was the only one seen leaving the office last Spring.”  
          "But you weren’t seen near the office this time.  Why accuse you?”  
          “There’s no evidence I was involved, but they think I did it like before and I never told who was with me last time so they’re sure I must know something.  That’s why it’s probation not expulsion,” replied Vernon.  
          “So your friends let you take the rap last Spring all by yourself and now they’re letting you take the blame for something _they_ did?”   
          “It’s not that way,” Vernon protested, “really.  Their families are pretty important.  They would be devastated if their sons got into trouble.  It would be such a scandal!”  
          Holly regarded Vernon thoughtfully.  “You don’t think dad will believe you if you show him this notice for him to sign and tell him what really happened?”  
          “Would you?”  
          “Actually, yes.”  
          “Thanks for the support, sis,” said Vernon, sitting back down, “but we had a huge fight last summer; it took a lot of work to convince dad last time that the break-in was a one time incident and I wouldn’t do it again.  He won’t be as easy to convince as you—not a second time.  If I sign the paper for him and keep out of trouble the rest of the year, he need never know.”  
          “And if something else happens and you get expelled?” queried Holly.  
           "It won’t.  I’ll make sure.”  
          Holly pursed her lips thoughtfully looking at the paper.  “What if I could get dad to sign this and believe you when you tell him you didn’t do it …”  
          Vernon snorted.  “No offense, sis, but you were out of it all summer and gone the rest of the year.  I hardly think you’d have anything to say that he would listen to…”  
          "But if I could?” pursued Holly.  “Would you promise me something?”  
          “Promise you what?”  
          “That you make some new friends.  You may be _their_ friend, but I don’t think they are _yours_.  If they were truly your friends, they wouldn’t stand by and let you get falsely accused.  You stay with these people they’re going to get into more trouble and let you take the blame time after time.”  
          Vernon didn’t argue with Holly’s assessment.  “It doesn’t matter,” he muttered.  “Dad’ll never believe me.  No matter what I say.”  
          “Then it doesn’t hurt you to promise me.  Will you do it?”   
          Vernon thought about it.  “Yeah, O.K., I guess.  If you can get dad to believe me I’ll look for some other friends.”  
          Holly smiled, “You wait right here.”  And she started out the door clutching the letter.  
          "Wait,” called Vernon, “what do you think you are doing?”  
          “I’m going to talk to dad.”  She was gone from the room before Vernon could stop her. 

********************

          Dillon was sitting in the living room reading the newspaper.  Holly came in clutching a paper.  “Dad?” she said.  “May I talk to you?  It’s important.”  
          “Sure, baby,” said Dillon putting down his newspaper and looking at Holly.  “What is it?”  
          “Daddy,” began Holly, “we haven’t really talked about school, have we?”     
          Dillon tensed up immediately.  “No, we haven’t,” he said warily.  He looked out across the room away from Holly.  He did not want to talk about Holly’s school but couldn’t think how to leave.  
          “Well, daddy,” continued Holly, “I can feel things, you know.”   
          “I know,” he said cautiously, still looking away, out at nothing.  
          “I could always feel things before,” continued Holly.  “But at school, I’ve learned how to _understand_ what I am feeling.”  
          “I’m glad to hear that,” said Dillon, still tense.  “Why are you telling me this?”  
          “For example,” said Holly ignoring the question.  “Now I can pretty much tell when someone is lying.”  
          “That’s nice, dear, why are you telling me this?”  
          “Grandmum and Granddad—they weren’t really going straight home, were they?”  
          Dillon froze at those words.  No, they weren’t, but how could she know…  He looked at Holly.  “Holly,” he demanded, “why are you telling me these things?”  
          Holly mutely handed him a letter.  Dillon looked at it.  It was from Smeltings.  He began to read it.  “I was talking to Vernon,” said Holly while he read the letter.  “Vernon says he didn’t do it and he’s telling the truth!”   
          Dillon ignored Holly as he finished the letter.  His whole face turned red and he spoke out angrily, “This is the last straw!!!  I told him last summer if he ever got into trouble again—,” he broke off and then shouted:  “VERNON!” he called out angrily,  “COME HERE, NOW!”   
          “Daddy,” said Holly insistently, “I don’t think you were listening to me; he didn’t do it!”   
          “That’s nice you believe him, dear,” said Dillon distractedly, thinking more about what he would say to Vernon than Holly.  “But you have no idea what’s going on here.”  
          “Daddy,” said Holly persistently, putting her hand on his arm.  “I didn’t say I _believed_ him, I said he was _telling the truth!_ ”  
          “Later, Holly,” said Dillon shaking Holly’s hand off his arm.  “VERNON!” he shouted again.  
          Vernon appeared, “Yes, Dad?” he said reluctantly.  Dillon looked over at Vernon angrily taking a deep breath before speaking.  
          "Daddy!” said Holly, grabbing his arm again.  
          “I said LATER!”  Dillon said to Holly, trying to brush her off.  He was now angry at her too!  
          “HOGWARTS!” shouted Holly clinging to his arm.  As always, the name made Dillon stop and flinch.  He looked angrily at Holly.  
          "What!!!?”   
          “Hogwarts!” repeated Holly looking directly into Dillon’s eyes.  “I said: Vernon—is—telling—the—truth!  I _know_ he’s not lying!”  
          “But you weren’t there; how can you possibly kno—” suddenly Dillon realized what Holly had been trying to tell him.  “You mean you _know_ he’s telling the truth?  Like _know_ know?”  Holly nodded.  “Like _Hogwarts_ know?”     
          “Yes, daddy.”   
          The tension melted away from Dillon’s body.  He swept Holly in a tight hug and kissed her.  “Thank you,” he whispered in her ear.  She nodded.  Dillon put Holly down and turned to face Vernon.  “Vernon,” he said sternly.  “You and me need to talk about this.”   
          Vernon hung his head.  “Yes, dad,” he said.   
          Dillon directed Vernon to his (Dillon’s) bedroom and shut the door behind them.

********************

          Two hours later, the door opened and Vernon came out.  He found his way into Holly’s room.  Holly looked up from the book she was reading.  
           “Well?” she asked.  “What happened?”  
           “He believed me,” Vernon said dazed.  “He wasn’t happy that I wouldn’t give up the other people’s names but he believed me when I said I didn’t do it.  I don’t know how you did it.  But thanks.”   
           Holly nodded.  “Any time.”  "Try hanging out with some of those people your so called “friends” makes fun of,” advised Holly.  “They are probably a lot nicer than the “friends” you’ve been with now.”   
           Vernon nodded, thoughtfully.  “Yeah, maybe.”

*******************

          Vernon was in his room packing.  He would be leaving for Smeltings tomorrow.  It wouldn’t be easy going back to school while under probation, but at least he had his dad’s signature on the official notification and his family believed he hadn’t done it.  They wouldn’t be there with him at Smeltings, but just knowing they believed in him really helped.   
          A soft knock came on the door.  “Enter,” said Vernon.   
          Holly walked in carrying a small candy box.  As always, that cat trailed in behind her.  Holly sat down on the bed and watched Vernon pack.  “How’s it going?” she asked.   
          “Fine,” he replied.  “What do you want?”  
          “I was thinking,” she began, absently stroking the cat, now sitting next to her, “that we should do something to try to clear your name.”  
          “I already told you” asserted Vernon, “I’m not telling on them.”  
          “I know,” she said.  “So I was thinking, maybe we could get them to turn themselves in…”  
          Vernon stopped packing and looked at Holly.  “And how do we do that?  I’m not asking…”  He went back to packing.  
          Holly nodded.  “I didn’t think you would.  How many are there?  Two, three?”  Vernon didn’t answer.  Holly didn’t seem to need an answer.  “I was thinking that you tell them that your sister is a witch and she is going to curse everyone that got her brother into trouble.”  
          “What?”  Vernon looked at Holly in surprise.  “Are you crazy?  They’ll never believe that.”  
          “Of course not,” agreed Holly.  “But it plants the _idea_ into their heads.  Then later, you offer them some of these…”  She held out the candy box in her hand.   
           Vernon took the box and looked at it suspiciously.  It was a simple gold box with a large “W” embossed on it’s top.  “What is it?” he asked as he opened it.  Inside were several ordinary looking chocolate squares, one half of each had been dipped in white chocolate.  One of the pieces was missing.  
          “It’s a candy popular at my school,” explained Holly.  She had found it left behind on the train when she came home for the holidays.  “The kids get it at a joke shop,” she continued.  “You take a bite out of the dark chocolate side and you get a nosebleed.  You take a bite from the other end, and the nosebleed goes away.  If you eat one with them, make sure you take a bite from the white chocolate side and only one bite.  Toss the ones you don’t use so no one unintended gets a nosebleed too.”  
          Vernon looked at the candies more closely.  “Why would anyone want a nosebleed?”  
          “Some of the kids will take a bite at the beginning of class,” explained Holly, “get a nose bleed and then use it as an excuse to get out of class.  Once outside, instead of going to the infirmary, they take a bite from the other end and have the rest of the period off to study or whatever.”  
          “Oh,” said Vernon, “cool.”  
          “Of course,” added Holly, “all the professors are on to this particular joke so whenever anyone turns up with a nosebleed, they just ignore it and let the student suffer.  Now the kids use them mostly to gross out each other.”  But that wasn’t always the case.   
          Holly could still remember her second week at Hogwarts when Martina Goyle had come up to Becky after Defense Against the Arts class and apologized for accidentally hitting Becky during wand practice.  It was one of those spells that went wild sending armor parts flying all over the class into everyone and everything.  Then Martina had casually offered Becky a piece of chocolate from the bag of candy she always carried with her.  Becky, thinking the apology was genuine, accepted the candy and bit into it…  she hadn’t known what a Nosebleed Nougat looked like or how they worked.  (The Hufflepuffs had been keeping away from all that sort of thing for Holly’s sake.)  When Becky’s nose started to bleed, Becky dropped the rest of the candy and Martina “accidentally” stepped on it.  Then a laughing Martina quickly left the bleeding Becky behind saying she had to get to class.   
          Becky was in tears when she reached Holly and Holly didn’t know what a Nosebleed Nougat was either.  By the time they got to Mark and he recognized what had happened, the self-cleaning feature of the practice room had already activated and the second half of the Nougat was gone. (Not that it would have worked after being stepped on anyway.)  Becky refused to go to the next class bleeding like that so she ducked into the nearest bathroom to hide until the effects of the candy wore off.  Holly went with her.  The bathroom had a large OUT OF ORDER sign posted on the outside, but they didn’t care.  They weren’t planning to use the toilet, just hide.  Mark went on to class; he told Professor Iverson what had happened and that the two would be late…  
          The bathroom was positively filthy.  Dirt, dust and mold covered damp floors and walls.  A few candle stubs burning low in their holders lit the room.  The mirrors were cracked and the stall doors dangled precariously on single hinges or had fallen to the floor completely.  Not that Becky had noticed.  She was too busy crying and trying to wipe off her nose.   
          Then a ghost had come swooping out of the toilet investigating the sound of Becky’s sobbing.  It was of a young girl with dark long hair and thick pearly glasses.  She said her name was Moaning Myrtle.  When she learned what had happened to Becky, Myrtle got very sympathetic.  It seems the students had all teased her while she attended Hogwarts.   
          “People always made fun of my glasses,” Myrtle said, “And there had been this one boy Tom,” she continued, “he was a perfect gentleman in front of the teachers, but real sneaky and nasty when they weren’t looking.  He used to put spiders and snakes in my bag; they would slither and crawl out when I least expected it.  He was scary.”  
          By this time, the bleeding had finally stopped.  Becky was for skipping class altogether rather than show up late with everyone knowing what happened, but Holly insisted it would be worse to miss the whole class.  The sinks didn’t work so they had to use some water from the toilet to wash off Becky’s face (Myrtle assured them the water was fairly clean as she flushed that particular toilet frequently) and fortunately, their self-cleaning clothes didn’t show any bloodstains.  When Becky again looked presentable, they said “goodbye” to Myrtle and went to class.   
          No one said a word about their late arrival.  Professor Iverson merely directed the two girls to their seats and continued on with the lesson.  The whole class was engrossed in trying to turn eggs into golf balls.  Some of the students had succeeded in making their eggs _look_ like golf balls, but when the professor asked them to bounce their balls…  well, there were eggshells and raw egg yolk all over the floor.   
          Albus came over to Holly, on the guise of cleaning the floor, and hissed furiously, “Someone should put some Puking Pastilles in that candy bag of hers!”   
          “No, don’t,” whispered Holly back.  “That would only make things worse!”   
          Even so, the Slytherns made use of every opportunity to tease Becky the rest of the week.  On Friday, Gwen called all the first years together and showed them a pile of joke and novelty items that could be obtained at Weasley’s Joke Emporium or at Hogsmeade.  She and Ben went over each item—what it looked like and what it did so no one else would be tricked like Becky…            
          "So how long does it last?" questioned Vernon.  
          “What?” Holly thought back.  It hadn’t taken that long but it seemed like an eternity at the time. “About ten, maybe fifteen minutes,” she answered.  “Less, if they finish the candy…”  
          “That’s supposed to make them think they’ve been cursed?”  
          “Not exactly,” replied Holly.  “Then you just sit back and let their imaginations take over.”  
          “Huh?  What do you mean?” asked Vernon.  
          “Well,” replied Holly thoughtfully, “of course they don’t believe in curses, but the next time one of them accidentally steps into a mud puddle he’ll think _maybe_ it was the result of the curse… And the next time one of them gets a low grade on a paper or chewed out by a teacher…”  
          “He’ll think it’s the curse at work…” finished Vernon smiling.  “This could work.  But what if they fess up and clear my name.  How do we lift the curse?”  
          Holly frowned, thinking.  She hadn’t gotten that far in her idea.  Then her face brightened.  “I know,” she said.  “Come with me.”   
          She got off the bed and went into the kitchen.  Vernon followed behind.  Digging though some of the cupboards Holly found a small empty dark red vinegar bottle with a cork.  She pulled it out and carried it to the sink.  Using a scouring pad, she scraped off the label.  Next, she got out a mixing bowl and spoon.  Then she dug around the shelves pulling off various spice bottles and started pouring ingredients together into the bowl.   
          “Let’s see,” she said busily,  “molasses for the base, lots of Chili powder, some curry powder, garlic powder, red pepper powder, black pepper, mustard powder, Chinese mustard and a little vinegar to thin it down and, oh yes, some vanilla extract.”  
          “Vanilla?”   
          “Sure,” replied Holly.  “Have you ever tasted it?  Ghastly stuff.  Smells great but tastes awful…”  Holly stirred vigorously.  “There,” she said proudly lifting a spoonful of the black concoction for Vernon’s inspection.  “What do you think?”   
          Vernon took a whiff.  “It doesn’t smell all that bad,” he pronounced cautiously.  Then he dipped a finger into the black stuff and tasted a drop.  
          “Yeech!” he said laughing.  “That should do perfectly!”  
          “Vernon!  Holly!” called out Laurel.  “What are you doing?”  She was in the living room cleaning.  
          “Just a cooking experiment,” replied Holly loudly.  Both she and Vernon chuckled.  Vernon fetched a funnel and Holly carefully poured the mixture into the bottle and corked it.  “Tell them they each have to drink a tablespoon of this at exactly midnight.”  She directed handing the bottle to Vernon.  
          “Why midnight?”  
          Holly shrugged.  “I don’t know, it just sounds like a good witchy time don’t you think?”  Vernon nodded in agreement.  The two walked back to his bedroom.  “And it has to be exactly at midnight, not one second earlier or later,” she continued.  
          “Why?”  
          “Because then you can tell them if it’s not swallowed exactly at midnight the curse won’t lift immediately but will instead fade away gradually,” explained Holly.  “It’s hard to do something at an exact time.  If something “bad” happens the next day, they’ll think it’s because they didn’t swallow the potion at exactly the right time.”   
          Vernon nodded again.  He wrapped the bottle in a plastic bag and then tucked it in with the rest of his things.  “Sounds good to me,” he said padding the bottle with some of his clothing.  Then he stiffened a bit as he thought of something.  “Wait a minute.  You can’t really curse people can you?”  
          “Of course not,” replied Holly reassuringly.  Vernon relaxed.  Then, without missing a beat and keeping a straight face Holly added, “They haven’t taught us that yet.”   
          Vernon stared straight into Holly’s green eyes and then broke into a laugh.  “You’re really weird sometimes, sis,” he said finally.  “But I’m glad you’re all better.”  
          Holly smiled.  “Me too,” she said.

*******************

          Holly was in her bedroom packing her things.  Recently the whole family had driven Vernon to the station and seen him off to school.  Now it was her turn.  Vernon had only been gone a few days but already the house felt empty.  A soft knock sounded at her door and the door opened.  Holly looked up.  It was her mother.  
          “May I come in?” she asked.  Holly nodded.  Laurel came in and sat down on the bed next to Sasha.  “Is there anything I can do to help?”   
          Holly shook her head.  “No,” she replied.  “I’m pretty much done now.”  
          "You don’t really have to go back if you don’t want to, you know,” said Laurel stroking Sasha absently.  
          “I know,” replied Holly.  “But I can’t take Sasha with me everywhere I go; I’ve got to learn what to do next.”  Laurel nodded understandingly still stroking Sasha, who purred loudly, happy at the extra attention.  Holly could tell her mum was still worried about her return to Hogwarts.  Holly looked over at the snow globe still on her shelf; she had decided to not take that with her.  
          “Mum,” Holly said, taking a deep breath.  “Would you like to see my school?”  
          Laurel hesitated a bit before speaking.  “Why yes,” she said finally, “I think I would.  Is that possible?”  
          Holly took the globe off the shelf and handed it to her mom.  “This,” she announced proudly, “is a replica of my school, Hogwarts.”  Together the two looked at the globe.  Holly pointed out which tower housed her dorm, the quidditch field and Hagrid’s hut which stood off to one side.  She pointed out the thick-trunked tree with spindly branches that stood in one yard.  Holly explained it was a Whomping Willow and would attack anyone that dared climb it’s branches.  “You can see why I get so much exercise,” Holly finished “and why there aren’t any elevators.”  Holly shook the globe and the snow swirled around.  “When I left,” she mused, “it was snowing pretty hard.  I wonder what it will look like on my return.”   
          When her initial surprise wore off her mother’s instinct took over.  “It looks kind of cold and drafty,” she observed.  “Are you warm enough?”  
          Holly laughed.  “Yes, mummy,” she said, “there’s a huge fire always burning in my dorm; we’ve lots of thick wool blankets for our beds.  And the classrooms all have climate control.”  Of course Holly didn’t mention exactly what that climate was supposed to be.  Potions, down in the dungeons, was always cold and damp.  “Professor Firenze even had a pavilion set up for us when it rained during astrology,” added Holly.  “We sat on comfy pillows next to a huge bonfire and watched the flickering flames while he told us some ancient legends concerning the origins of the stars and planets.  It was a really neat lesson and no one got cold at all.”  
          Laurel relaxed a bit.  Then she looked down at Holly’s feet.  “Goodness,” she said, “how many pairs of shoes did you bring with you?”   
          Holly followed her mom’s gaze down to her lavender colored shoes sprinkled with flecks of gold glitter. “Um, one?” replied Holly.  They had never gotten a chance to get new Muggle shoes while shopping that first day.  
          “I don’t think so,” corrected her mom.  “There was that pink pair you wore the first day, and I remember seeing a green set the next, and a turquoise pair, and the green spotted orange set, that was hideous by the way, and the red ones, and the blue stripes…”  Holly could almost see her mum counting them in her head.  “You must have darn near brought a different pair for every day…” her voice trailed off and her mouth hung open as she looked at the small bags Holly had brought to carry her things realizing they were way too small for that many shoes…  
          “They’re called Rainbow shoes,” explained Holly meekly.  “They are black on school days and change color on weekends and holidays.”  
          Her mother closed her mouth while she digested this piece of information.  “Oh,” she said finally.  “I guess that explains why they were all the same style.  I thought that was a bit weird.”  
          Holly considered her mom’s reaction to the shoes.  Then she put the snow globe slowly back on the shelf.  “Mum,” she began hesitantly, “I did get you a Christmas gift, but I didn’t know whether I should give it to you…”  
          “Oh?”  
          “I think I’ll give it a try,” continued Holly.  She rummaged around in an outside pocket of her bag and brought out a small silver colored box, which she then handed to her mom.  Laurel examined the outside briefly and then opened it.  Inside was a small oval pendant with a silver chain.  The pendant was of some sort of stone that shimmered somewhat like an opal showing hints of other colors within.  In the middle of the opal like stone was a silver star with several spokes radiating outward.  
          “It’s beautiful,” Laurel breathed taking the pendant out for a closer examination.  Holly could tell she liked it.  “Why would you hesitate to give this to me?”  
          “It’s called a Healthstone,” explained Holly softly.  “Many of the parents of kids at Hogwarts wear them.  I know you worry about me so I thought I would get you one.  Watch,” she said taking the pendant from her mom’s hands.  Holly reached over, opened a desk drawer, and pulled out a needle from a small pincushion.  She carefully stuck the needle in her thumb.  The two of them watched a small bead of blood well up.  Then Holly pressed her thumb to the surface of the pendant.  When Holly removed her thumb, the blood was gone!  It was neither smeared on the surface of her thumb or the pendant.  The pendant seemed to glow and shimmer even more.   
          “There,” said Holly.  “Now it’s activated.”  She handed the pendant back to Laurel.  “When I am well,” she explained, “it will look like this.  The pendant will change colors if I am not well.”  It was supposed to turn black if Holly were dead.  But Holly didn’t think she would mention that part.   
          Several of the Hufflepuff students injured during the broom collision got owl messages from worried parents the next day.  Holly wondered how they had learned about it so fast.  That’s when the other students told her about the Healthstones their parents wore.  Mark got her a catalog.  Holly was surprised at the variety of Healthstone jewelry.  Beside an assortment of various style broaches, rings, pendants, tie clips and bracelets, there were also Healthstone jewelry divided into two or more segments for families with more than one child attending Hogwarts.  
           The pieces looked so beautiful that Holly had ordered one using the money Cousin Harry had given her to spend.  Then she worried that her mom might not want anything touched by magic.  Later, Holly decided that mom might like the pendant.  But she wasn’t really sure…  Unfortunately, the back of the pendant had a fancy “H” engraved on it—H for Holly.  But someone could easily think it stood for “Hogwarts” or “Harry” so Holly hadn’t dared give her gift to mom on Christmas day.  Then other things had come up…   
          Laurel took the pendant from Holly and gave her a big hug.  “Thank you,” she said unclasping the chain.  Holly could tell she genuinely liked the gift, magic and all.  Holly helped attach the pendant around her mom’s neck.  “This is a very special gift.  I’ll think of you always when I wear it,” she said.  Then she hugged Holly again and whispered in her ear “And I’ll know you’re safe wherever you are.” 

 


	13. Chapter 13

          The drive to the station was very quiet.  Each person, Dillon included, was lost in his or her own thoughts.  It was always sad returning the children to school after the holidays.  So many things had been left unsaid or undone and now there was no time.  Laurel had shown Holly’s Christmas gift to Dillon.  He thought it was pretty but way too expensive.  He was touched by Holly’s generosity especially as she must have used her Christmas money to purchase it.   
          Dillon still wasn’t happy about Holly attending _that school_ , (even now he couldn’t bear to say the name) but Laurel had assured him that, for the moment, _that school_ was probably the best place for Holly; she did look much healthier and happier for having attended it.  
_“Christmas holidays had not gone as expected,”_ thought Dillon, thinking of Holly’s short hair and Vernon’s probation, _“but it had not been the disaster he had feared, either.”_   Holly still loved him and, surprisingly, he found he still loved her, as much as before—despite the reason she attended _that school_.  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad letting her go there after all…  They pulled into Kings Cross station and parked their car.  Dillon carried Holly’s bag for her as they entered the station.   
          “Look,” said Holly, “there’s Cousin Harry.”  Sure enough, Harry had been sitting on a bench waiting for them.  “How does he know to meet us here?” asked Holly curiously.  
          “I asked him to,” said Laurel.  “We’re here early.  It isn’t proper for you to wait here alone.”  Dillon wondered briefly how Laurel had managed to contact the Smiths and get them to tell Harry in time to meet them…  but he didn’t ask.  Better not to know, he decided.   
          Harry had been reading a newspaper.  Noting their arrival, he folded the newspaper and put it in a pocket standing quickly to greet them.  “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Wycliff, Holly,” he said formally in a quiet voice.  “Did you have a nice holiday?”  
          “Uh, yes, we did,” replied Dillon.  He awkwardly held out his hand by way of greeting.  They owed so much to Harry he could at least try to be polite.  Harry noted the gesture with surprise.  He said nothing but followed suit and extended his own hand grasping Dillon’s briefly.  
          “I brought you some cookies,” said Laurel holding out a white box tied with a green bow.  “I baked them myself.  I thought you and your family might enjoy them.”  
          “We would indeed,” replied Harry warmly as he took the box.  “Home baked cookies are always a treat.  Thank you so much.”  
          Dillon shifted uncomfortably, unsure what to do next. “Well,” he said finally, “I guess we had better get going.  Goodbye Holly.”  He knelt and gave her a hug.   
          “Goodbye, daddy.”  Then she whispered in his ear while hugging him back, “I love you.”  
          “I love you too, baby,” he whispered back.  Dillon stood back and let Laurel hug and say “goodbye” to Holly.  When Laurel stood she looked at Harry.  
          “Thank you for everything,” she said to Harry.  
          “My pleasure,” he replied.  And then the two left for their car.

********************

          Harry Potter was pleased to note the Healthstone Laurel now wore around her neck when he accepted the box of cookies.  That special shimmer meant Holly had activated it and he suspected Laurel knew exactly what it meant, though he doubted Dillon did.  Old habits would die hard for him, for both of them.  Even a simple handshake seemed almost too much for either of them.  
          Ginny had a Healthstone, as did Hermione.  Hermione always wore hers under her clothing and only noticed it had gone very dark when she had taken it off that night.  She and Ron had hurried to his house to see if Harry had known anything.  Ginny’s Healthstone looked normal so it was just Rose they had to worry about.  Then Kreacher arrived and reported that Rose had not shown up for lunch and that none of the three, James, Albus or Rose, had shown for dinner...  He returned later to report that they could not be found in the castle...  After that it was a matter of anxious waiting; there was nothing they could do to find the children any faster than Neville or the rest of the Hogwarts staff.   
          Abruptly, Hermonie’s Healthstone went from dark purple to light purple.  Everyone breathed a huge sigh of relief.  Twenty minutes later, Kreacher arrived saying the three students were back in Hogwarts and Rose was in the infirmary.  The next morning an owl arrived for Ron and Hermione informing them that Rose would need to stay in the infirmary a while…  (How did the owl know they were staying at Harry’s house at the time?)  Then came a second owl informing Harry of Holly’s part in the night’s adventures.   
          Harry hadn’t realized the children were that close.  He suggested to Kreacher that should his children go missing again Kreacher might look into the whereabouts of Holly Wycliff as well.  Albus and James had a lot of explaining to do upon their return.

********************

          Harry and Holly watched her parents leave the station.  When they had vanished from sight, Mr. Potter, it felt weird to call him Cousin Harry when they were together, reached down and lifted Holly’s bags.  “I think we should find our station, don’t you think?” he said.  
          Holly nodded.  “Um, I don’t really know which one it is…”   
          “It’s platform 9 and ¾,” replied Mr. Potter.  He started walking off and Holly followed carrying Sasha.  He stopped in front of a brick pillar.  “Here we are,” he told Holly.  
          Holly eyed the pillar apprehensively.  “I, uh, don’t really know what to do,” she confessed.  
          “That’s O.K.,” said Mr. Potter.  “Just walk straight towards the barrier quickly.  Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into the barrier.”  Holly still looked at the barrier uncertainly.  “You got through it last time,” said Mr. Potter encouragingly, “you can do it again.”  
          “But my eyes were closed last time,” protested Holly.   
          “That’s a good idea, said Mr. Potter.  He shifted the two bags to under one arm and balanced the box of cookies on top.  “You take my hand,” he commanded.  Holly shifted Sasha to under one arm and gave her free hand to her cousin.  “Now, close your eyes.”  Holly did.  “Ready?”  
          “I think so…”   
          “Then, lets go!”  They moved swiftly forward… “You can open your eyes now,” came the voice of Mr. Potter.  Holly opened her eyes and saw with amazement the Hogwarts Express sitting on the tracks in front of her.  A sign overhead indicated they were at Platform 9 and ¾.   The station was empty of people.  Holly and Mr. Potter found a bench to sit on and wait.  Sasha jumped free to chase some butterflies and investigate a beetle.  Mr. Potter looked over at Holly.  “You’ve cut your hair,” he said conversationally.  
          Holly nodded.  “It made me look too much like your mum Lily.”  
          Mr. Potter nodded.  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said solemnly.  “You had lovely hair.”  
          “It’s O.K.  I can grow it back.”  Holly was silent.  Then she spoke softly.  “May I ask you a question?”  
          “You may.”  
          Holly didn’t know how to begin.  “Your mum, Lily,” she started.  “Grandma didn’t like her—yet they’re sisters!  Do you know why?”  Mr. Potter was silent for a long time.  Holly could tell the question disturbed him—amazing how much she could tell about people now that she could identify their emotions…  She wouldn’t have asked but she really needed an answer.  “It’s important,” she told him.   
          Finally, Mr. Potter spoke.  “Your grandmother really wanted to go to Hogwarts with Lily,” he said slowly.  “When she learned she couldn’t, I think she got very jealous and began to hate everything connected with Hogwarts including her sister.”  
          “Thank you,” said Holly quietly not pressing for further details.  “And you?”  
          “Me?”   
          “Yes, you.  You and dad, you grew up together and yet you’re both—you’re not—” Holly couldn’t continue; she couldn’t begin to describe the mix of emotions she felt when the two of them were together.  Each hid it well, but under the surface, the emotions weren’t very pleasant.  
          Harry Potter looked at Holly and asked a question of his own.  “Does Vernon know you’re a witch and an Empath?”   
          Holly shook her head.  “No,” she whispered.  
          “And you’re afraid of what will happen if he finds out?”   
          Mutely, Holly nodded.  Tears were streaming down her face.  “What if,” she began, “what if it’s like with grandma or dad?  I _like_ my brother and I don’t want to loose him.”   
          Harry Potter leaned back and sighed.  “I don’t know what to tell you, Holly,” he said.  “Vernon has his own school doesn’t he?  Holly nodded wiping her face off with a sleeve.  “Then I don’t think you need worry that he’ll get jealous and want to transfer to Hogwarts.”  His logic made Holly feel a little better.  “And as for your dad and me, well, we lived in the same house, but we weren’t encouraged to treat each other like brothers…  That’s clearly not the situation between you and Vernon.”  Holly nodded slowly in agreement.  “Answer me this,” continued Mr. Potter.  “Do you think you can keep this from Vernon forever?”   
          Holly thought.  “Probably not,” she admitted.   
          “Then, I think it would be wisest if you told Vernon yourself, sooner than not—no matter what happens next.  Your grandparents didn’t tell me anything about my parents, how they really died, or my being a wizard until after I got the letter from Hogwarts,” Mr. Potter explained.  “I remember feeling very hurt and angry at being lied to like that.  I don’t know how Vernon will react to the news, but it would be much worse if he finds out some other way and thinks you’ve been deliberately lying to him…”   
          Holly nodded thoughtfully.  “Thank you,” she said softly.  She was quiet for a while and then she said, “Mr. Potter?”  
          “Yes?”  
          “Do you think you could get me Vernon’s address at school?”  
          “I think I could do that,” he said gravely.  Then he glanced around the station.  “Look,” he said. “The Weasleys have arrived.”  
          Holly looked up.  She recognized Rose walking besides two adults, obviously her parents, and a young boy with dark red hair. The boy was tall but looked too young to attend Hogwarts.  The father, with red hair that matched Rose’s, was carrying a large flat box tied with a bright red and blue ribbon.  The four were all walking purposefully towards Holly and Cousin Harry.  
          Harry Potter stood to greet them; Holly stood also.  “Hello there,” greeted Mr. Potter warmly when they got within hearing.  “I’d like you to meet my cousin, Holly Wycliff.  Holly,” said Mr. Potter, continuing his introductions, “this is Ron Weasley, and his wife, Hermione.  We have been friends since we first attended Hogwarts.  Ron is Ginny’s brother.  I believe you already know Rose, and this is her younger brother, Hugo.”  
          “Pleased to meet you,” said Holly politely.   
          “We are pleased to meet you, too,” said Mrs. Weasley shaking Holly’s hand.  She had long thick brown hair that spread out in waves over her shoulders.  “Thank you very much for saving our Rose’s life.”  
          “I uh,” said Holly disconcerted by the praise.  She had all but forgotten that snowy experience.  “It wasn’t just me,” she finally said.  “James and Albus were there too.  And if Rose hadn’t taken the cloak off—” Holly stopped.  Was she supposed to mention the invisibility cloak?  
          “True,” agreed Mr. Weasley reaching out to shake Holly’s hand next.  He was very tall, taller than Mr. Potter.  “But they would have never found her without your help.  Thank you for that.”  
          “Right!” piped up Hugo wanting his chance to speak to Holly.  “Thank you.”  
          Mr. Weasley held out the large box. “We got this for you,” he said.  “It’s an assortment of Bertie Botts treats.”  
          Holly looked at the box in surprise.  “Oh, no,” she protested, embarrassed by the attention.  “I couldn’t.  I don’t deserve this.”   
          She was on the verge of refusing the box altogether when Mr. Potter leaned over and spoke softly in her ear.  “Welcome to fame,” he whispered dryly.  “Be gracious.  What will he do with the box if you refuse?”  
          Holly took a deep breath and smiled.  “That was very kind of you Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,” she said taking the box.  “But I couldn’t possibly eat all this by myself.  I hope you don’t mind if I share it with my friends in the dorms.”  
          “No, of course not,” Mr. Weasley assured with a smile.  “That’s why we got such a large box.”  
          “Hey, Holly, I got you a Christmas gift.”  Rose handed her a small box.  “I know it’s a bit late, but I hope you like it.”  Holly opened the box.  Inside was a small silver tree with a thick trunk and massive branches.  “It’s a charm for your bracelet,” said Rose.  “Look on the back,” she instructed.  “I got it engraved.”  Holly turned the charm over and saw, in very tiny letters, the word “Hero” written on the back.  “I know they would have found me eventually,” continued Rose, “but it was a lot faster with your help and I _was_ getting rather cold.  Thanks so much.”  
          Holly smiled.  “Any time,” she replied putting the box in her pocket.  She’d put the charm on her bracelet later when she had time.  
          “Holly!”  Holly felt someone practically knock her over in a big bear hug.  She looked down to find Lily wrapped around her waist.   
          “Uh, hi, Lily,” said Holly, hugging her back.   
          “You cut your hair!”  
          “Yup.  It was time for a change,” replied Holly cheerfully.  
          “Hallo Holly,” called out James and Albus as they walked over with their mother.   
          Harry Potter moved forward and gave Ginny a hug.  She smiled at Holly and gave her brief hug as well.  “How was your holiday?” she asked.   
          “Just fine,” replied Holly.  
          “Thanks, dad.” shouted James and he grabbed Holly’s bags and started off for the train.  
          “Thanks,” said Albus pocketing his money.  
          “Mr. Potter,” began Holly after looking at the number of coins he had given her, “how much does it cost to send me to Hogwarts?”   
          “How much does it cost?  Are you worried that it might be too much?”   
          Holly nodded. “Mum and dad were talking about how much it cost to send Vernon to Smeltings and I was thinking that—”  
          “—that you might be a burden to us?  Nonsense!”  Mr. Potter knelt down and looked Holly directly in her eyes.  “I told your parents last Fall and I will tell you again.  You’re family, Holly, not a burden, and we are _happy_ to take care of your expenses while at school.  You just pass all your classes, O.K.?”  
          “O.K.,” said Holly and she pocketed the coins.  
          James returned.  Ginny proceeded to give good-bye hugs to all three children.  Then Harry said his good-byes hugging James and Albus, giving each some fatherly advice.  When he got to Holly, he lifted her up while giving her a hug.  Then he spoke quietly in her ear.  “It occurs to me, Holly,” he began, “that when I last said those words, you hadn’t yet attended Hogwarts… You might have thought I spoke those words more from a sense of guilt and duty than anything else…  Do you believe me now?”  
          “Yes, sir,” replied Holly.   
          “Good,” he said putting Holly down.  “Now be careful and have a good time.  I’ll see you in the Spring.”  
          Holly scooped up Sasha and boarded the train.  She found Mark and Becky quickly and the three happily compared holiday experiences while eating Bertie Botts treats and riding the train to Hogwarts.

********************

          The worst thing about returning to Hogwarts was the week of detention Holly had to spend with Professor Longbottom.  The four students showed up promptly at six after dinner to spend their first day at detention.  Holly had no idea what to expect.  Asking around proved useless as each detention seemed to differ according to the teacher that assigned it.  
          With wands lit, Professor Longbottom and Professor Hagrid led the group deep into the Forbidden Forest with several buckets and shovels.  Hagrid stopped at the base of some thick dead tree trunks.  They turned out to be the homes of several colonies of bats.   
          “These wouldn’t happen to be _vampire_ bats, would they?” asked Holly anxiously as she eyed the bats that swarmed, flapped and fluttered around them.  
          “Yep,” said Hagrid proudly.  “These ‘ere are sum colonies of hairy legged vampire bats.  They’re small, but kinda cute.  An’ over there,” he said pointing to some other trunks, “are sum colonies of large brown ‘n blacks; they like mammal blood best.”  
          “Terrific,” said Rose dryly.  “I thought vampire bats were only found on the American continents.”  
          “Tha’s wha’ the dealer said when I ordered them,” agreed Hagrid.  “He didn’ seem to think they would survive out ‘ere at all.  I sure showed ‘em wrong.  They like it ‘ere jes’ fine.”  
          “Professor,” began James, “just what are we supposed to be doing here?”  
          In response, Professor Longbottom bent down to one side of a tree trunk and pulled a knob.  A whole section of the bark came off revealing a dark hollow within.  The stench of ammonia wafted out of the hole.  “You’ll be collecting bat guano,” he said.  “It’ll be very useful in a project we have to complete.”  
          “You want us to collect bat poop?!” said Albus voicing the same disgust Holly felt.  
          “Yep,” said Professor Longbottom cheerfully.  “This is detention, remember?  Don’t expect to be doing anything you particularly like.  All these buckets need to be filled,” he said handing out empty buckets and shovels to the group.  “Now, get to it...”  
          “Oh yeh,” said Hagrid pulling out a jar and some tongs, “if yeh see sum giant centipedes, catch ‘em an’ put ‘em in ‘ere.”  
          “Why would we find any centipedes?” inquired Holly.  
          “Cuz they like ta eat th’ bats,” replied Hagrid.   
          Holly cringed.  Bat poop and centipedes: this would not be an easy night.   
          Professor Longbottom and Hagrid held up the lights while the four set to work collecting bat guano.  The first few bats that flew out of the tree had swooped straight at Sasha.  The cat was so unnerved by them that she spent her time sitting on Professor Longbottom’s shoulder.  The bats seemed to not like the lit wand he was holding.  The ground was cold and hard but the piles of guano were semi soft as it had dropped within the tree trunks where the temperature was much warmer.  Once the interior of a hollow trunk had been emptied of guano, the bark door of the tree trunk was closed and they set to work emptying another one…  The rancid ammonia smell of guano and bat urine soon permeated their clothing.  Bats fluttered overhead distressed at their presence.   
          “Don’ ya worry none,” assured Hagrid.  “They’ve already had dinner, I think.”  
          Had dinner!  Right!  Holly tried to sit down and rest once. Immediately four bats swooped overhead and tried to land on her…  and then a centipede almost bit her!  
          “Catch it!” shouted Hagrid eagerly when he heard her squeal and jump up.  He tossed her the tongs.  “Don’t worry.  They aren’t poisonous.  Their bite will only put ya ta sleep a while…  Tha’s why we’re collectin’ them.  Professor Slughorn wants some more centipede venom ta replenish his stock.”  The centipede was a foot in length, silver gray in color and very fast.  It crawled under the leaves and tried to attack them with huge pincers when they finally got it cornered.  
          Twelve angry centipedes and eight huge buckets of guano later, the four were finally ready to return to Hogwarts.  They then had to store the buckets and put away the shovels.   
          Their self-cleaning clothes, designed mostly to remove spots and freshen overnight, had only begun to do its bit when the four finally walked inside the castle at nearly eleven at night.  Dirty, smelly and very tired, they were greeted by a group of Slytherins who sat at the top of the steps of the entryway.  The Slytherins were eating popcorn and clearly waiting for their arrival.  
          “Hey, Potter!” voiced Tom Richards with a smirk, “been on another family outing?”  Paige Crowley, the pale girl with long black hair, who hung out with Tom Richards, smiled appreciatively at his derisive words while she popped more kernels of popcorn into her mouth.   
          Anthony and Scorpius laughed loudly and added their own comments.  "Looks like it was a real picnic!” put in Scorpius.   
          “Yeah," agreed Anthony with a laugh.  "A picnic and a swim!  But I prefer swimming in clean water to muck!" he added making reference to their muddy appearance and pinching his nose.  
          "That's guano, not muck!" commented Paige serenely while she grabbed another handful of popcorn.  
          "You sure?" questioned Tom.  "It looks like muck."  He tossed a piece of popcorn at Albus striking him in the shoulder. Albus froze and stared at the popcorn as it fell lightly to the ground.  "It sticks like muck, too," continued Tom cheerfully.  Anthony and Scorpius followed suit and tossed some of their popcorn at the four.  Albus, fist clenched, took a step towards the Slytherins.  Rose and James immediately grabbed Albus' arms stopping his forward motion.  
           “Don’t,” James muttered.  “It’ll just make it worse.” He and Rose urged Albus up the stairs .  Holly followed while brushing the popcorn out of her hair.  
          "There is more to muck than looks and consistency," replied Paige informatively as they neared.  "Even from here you can _smell_ the difference."  Scorpius and Anthony broke out in open laughter at her words.  "Scent is an important part of potion identification," Paige added by way of explanation.  "But if you don't believe me, you can always ask..."  
          "Not necessary," laughed Tom while the group passed. "Your word is good enough for me. But what kind?" he inquired curiously.  Holly and her cousins continued up the stairs while trying to ignore the Slytherin conversation.    
          "Bat, I think," speculated Paige loudly.  "I've seen them come out occasionally at dusk..."  More laughter and conversation followed.   
          It was humiliating to have to listen to their jeers and laughter.  Holly felt not only her own embarrassment but that of Albus, James and Rose in varying degrees of intensity.  
          “Well,” sighed Rose when they got off the stairs, rounded a corner and were finally out of sight and sound of the Slytherins, “it could have been worse.”  
          “Yeah, how?” asked Albus.   
          “I asked mum about detentions over the holidays.  She said your dad once had a week of detention where he was kept out until well past midnight and still had a stack of homework to complete for his classes each day!  At least we’ll be able to get to bed sooner than that.”  
          “And we won’t be collecting any more bat guano,” said Holly brightly as she brushed long strands of stringy mucky hair out of her eyes.  Surprising how fast and long her hair had grown once she had returned to Hogwarts.  “We got it all tonight.”   
          “Yeah,” said James wearily.  “I wonder what we’ll be doing tomorrow...”

********************

          Detention the next day, if not worse, came in for a close second.  Professor Longbottom handed each person thick overalls, rubber boots and gloves and put them to work cleaning out the mud and muck at the bottom of Cuddles’ pen.  Cuddles was now over three meters long.  There were so many holes in his enclosure that the patches had patches and Hagrid had given up repairing them.  Cuddles wore a thick leather collar around his middle attached to a heavy chain.  The chain had several new links showing where Cuddles had previously dissolved through the metal; he clearly did not like being tethered.  
          “Can’t walk ‘em no more,” muttered Hagrid disconsolately, “the centaurs are complainin’ ‘bout how he’s bin destroyin’ their homes…”  
          So besides slipping and sliding in the smelly muck that was the bottom of Cuddles’ pen the four had to shovel it into wheelbarrows and haul it out of the pen all the while dodging lizard spit.  They then dumped the muck next to the now solidly frozen guano.   
          When the pen fires burned low, Holly set to work gathering more wood.  This was fairly easy as the nearby Forest was littered with broken branches, courtesy of Cuddles.  She got a lot of practice using the _Wingardium Leviosa_ spell.  
          It was late and they were all filthy and tired when the four walked back into the castle.  The Slytherins were again out on the steps ready to heckle and jeer them as they walked past.  “I wish we could find a way to get them to leave us alone,” muttered Albus gloomily as they passed by the laughing Slytherin students.  
          “Another time,” hissed Rose dragging Albus along.  “We have to hurry; Holly has class tonight.”   
          And she did.  Holly barely had time to wash a bit and get changed into something clean, Becky lent her a spare set of clothes, before she (Holly) had to be off for Astrology.  Those fluffy pillows that made Professor Firenze’s class such a joy only served to put her to sleep easily.  Becky and Mark had to keep pinching Holly to keep her awake.  Even so, she still lost 5 House points for inattentiveness.

********************

          The next day was really bad.  Holly felt like she was a walking zombie all day.  She could barely keep her eyes open during Potions.  Becky kept her from adding dragonfly wing instead of dragonfly eyes but Holly still added too much slivered monkey pod turning a simple potion designed to strengthen bones into a congealed mass of gelatinous goo that had to be scraped out of the cauldron and tossed.  
          It took her so long to clean out the cauldron, even with Becky’s help, that Holly was late for Charms.  The two girls grabbed all their things and hastily raced up the stairs in an attempt to get to class in time.  Unfortunately, they were tardy and House points got deducted for that, much to the satisfaction of the Slytherin students watching.  
          During Charms, Holly was so unnerved by Slytherin gloating and constant smirks that when Malfoy snuck up behind her while she was trying to cast a spell and casually whispered, “Too bad, only three more days of detention,” Holly jumped knocking over her bag of school supplies which landed in a loud thwunk, a clatter and the unmistakable sound of breaking glass.  All the Slytherins laughed until the centipedes started crawling out.  The centipedes caused complete pandemonium in the class as students scrambled to get on desks and away from them.  Becky said the look on Malfoy’s face when that first centipede came crawling out of the bag was priceless.  Holly wished she’d seen it but she was too busy trying to contain the rest of the centipedes and being embarrassed to notice.  
          Holly had volunteered to give the jar of centipedes to Professor Slughorn a day ago but had been so sleepy she forgot to take the trip down to the dungeons to give it to him.  When she found the jar still in her bag the next day, she resolved to give him the centipedes during Potions, but was so distracted by the cauldron mess that she had forgotten.   
          The rest of the Charms period was spent trying to round up the fleeing angry centipedes.  Professor Flitwick looked none to happy about that.  They only found eleven.  
          Holly and Mark delivered the box of centipedes to a very delighted Professor Slughorn during lunch break.  
          Fortunately, Herbology was spent harvesting and sorting various fungi and then setting them on huge drying trays.  Holly felt so tired that anything much more complicated would have been beyond her abilities.  In History, Professor Binns droned on so Holly could barely keep awake; her notes were totally illegible.   
          At the end of class, Holly staggered back to the dorms and fell on her bed in an exhausted slumber.  She woke only after Becky shook her numerous times to tell her it was time for detention.  Holly had totally slept through dinner.  Becky pressed a thick sandwich in Holly’s hand.  She and Mark walked with Holly over to Herbology making sure she didn’t loose her way while Holly stuffed food in her mouth and tried to wake up.  
          On their third night of detention, Professor Longbottom had set out two huge cauldrons and started a roaring fire beneath each.  The students were set to work breaking apart the now frozen guano and lizard muck and putting it into the cauldron to melt.  To each cauldron they then added flobberworm mucus, stinksap and a barrel of butterbeer.   
          “It’s a waste of good butterbeer as far as I’m concerned,” muttered Hagrid glumly as he watched the butterbeer poured in.  The mixture had to be carefully heated and stirred constantly until it came to a boil.  The stench of the heating stuff was so strong it drove Mark and Becky away; they had lingered to give Holly support.  It smelled somewhere between moldy dirty socks, skunk, burning rubber and rotten eggs.   
          When the mixture came to a boil, they ladled it into the buckets and carried it over to Cuddle’s new pen.  Hagrid had built a fine large enclosure for Cuddles set further away from his hut and the school grounds.  Every inch of the three-meter high walls had to be slathered over with the steaming hot stuff.  Apparently, when dry, it was resistant to lizard spit.  As soon as a cauldron was emptied they refilled it and kept stirring until the next batch was ready.  
          The group was about halfway finished coating the new enclosure when Professor Longbottom called it quits for the evening.  Everyone again returned to Hogwarts tired and filthy.   
          “Hey,” commented Albus in surprise as he looked up the entryway stairs.  “No greeting committee,” meaning the Slytherins who had cheerfully waited for them the previous nights.   
          “Yes, well, they might be otherwise occupied tonight,” said Holly while they walked up the stairs.   
          “Really?” inquired Rose.  “Why?”  
          “Remember the centipedes I was supposed to give Professor Slughorn?”   
          “Yes.”  
          “Well the jar broke during Charms and Becky told me she saw one of them crawl into Richards’ bag.  She tried to tell him but he thought she was asking him to help find them in general and wouldn’t listen.  The Slytherins never take their bags to lunch so that means the centipede may have gotten loose in the Slytherin dorm…”  Everyone laughed at the thought.  
          "You don’t suppose it might have bitten someone?” inquired Rose anxiously.  
          “If we could only be so lucky,” replied James dryly.

********************

          The four finished coating the walls with the smelly mixture the next evening during detention.  Then they coated the sides and ceiling of the small shelter inside that would protect Cuddles from the snow and rain.  Afterwards Hagrid lit some large bonfires within the enclosure to help dry the walls and ceiling.  
          The Slytherins were waiting again up on the entryway steps when all four returned to Hogwarts that night.  Their laughter and jeers died away quickly when James asked them if they had seen any centipedes lately.

********************

          On their fifth and final night for detention Professor Longbottom got down to real business.  He led all four over to the Herbology greenhouse.  It had lain unused all winter.  Its glass windows were full of lizard spit holes making it useless as a greenhouse.  James and Albus balanced on broomsticks and painstakingly removed each damaged section.  Holly and Rose used _Wingardium Leviosa_ to lift replacement panels up.  James and Albus then carefully fitted the replacements into each gap.  While they worked, Professor Longbnottom happily watched their progress commenting that it had been pointless to repair the greenhouse earlier while Cuddles could keep getting out.  Hagrid had placed Cuddles in his new pen during the day and reported the lizard was happily spitting away in his new home.  
          It was quite late when the four finished replacing all the damaged glass and finally returned to Hogwarts.  Though tired, for once they weren’t covered in mud and muck or smelled up the halls as they passed.  Of course the Slytherins were not present to notice this final return in a relatively clean state having tired of the detention embarrassment game and had no doubt found something of more interest to do on a Friday evening.

********************

**_Vernon D. Wycliff_ **

          The words were written in neat calligraphy style printing on an envelope fastened closed with a few drops of blue sealing wax.  Vernon regarded it curiously.  It had come inside a larger envelope, also addressed to him.  Vernon had been surprised when the large envelope arrived for him in the mail after lunch.  No one had ever before written him except his parents.  The return envelope indicated that it came from someone with a last name of Smith.  At first Vernon thought it might have been delivered to the wrong person as he couldn’t remember anyone with the last name of Smith let alone think of why somebody named Smith would be writing him.  But there could be no mistake as his full name was written on the outside with a complete address including his dorm and room number.  
          Vernon studied the second envelope within the larger envelope.  It looked to be a hand folded envelope of creamy colored parchment style paper.  His name and full address was on one side.  When he flipped it over the found, to his surprise, Holly’s name on the back.  Was this a letter from Holly?  Holly had never written him before.  He had no idea what her handwriting even looked like and didn’t know if she could write in calligraphy style though he dimly remembered her mentioning that she had to always write in ink at her school.  Was this the kind of ink she meant?  He had no idea.  
          Intrigued, Vernon broke open the blue seal.  He pulled out a matching sheet of creamy colored paper that was folded in thirds.  Vernon unfolded the paper and read the letter.

_Dear Vernon,_

_Remember the snow globe you found in my room?  It is actually a miniature model of the school I __  
_attend.  Its full name is **HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY** and yes, it _is_ haunted.  _  
_Only people with special abilities are permitted to attend there.____

_I am what they call an Empath.  I can feel what other people around me feel.  Remember that lady who ___  
_died last summer?  Well, she was very ill.  So I felt very ill.  When she didn’t feel like eating, neither did I. _  
_I probably would have died along with her if Cousin Harry hadn’t taken me out of our home when he did. _  
_I can also feel the emotions of people around me.  That’s how I knew you weren’t telling everything you _  
_knew about my cat, and how I knew something was up when you were practicing dad’s signature._______

_I didn’t tell you any of this before because I was afraid of how you might react.  Grandma Wycliff had a sister ___  
_named Lily, Cousin Harry’s mum.  She was a witch and Grandma still hates Lily very much.  Cousin Harry is a __  
_wizard.  Dad grew up with Cousin Harry and they don’t like each other very much either.  I was afraid the same _  
_thing would happen between us.  But Cousin Harry says it is better I tell you now than you should find out later _  
_and think I have been lying to you.  So that’s why I am writing this letter.  It‘s O.K. if you don’t believe me; I wouldn’t _  
_believe it myself if I weren’t here.________

_I miss you._

_Love, Holly_

_P.S. They don’t have a mailbox here.  So if you want to write me, send the letter to me, in care of the Smiths and they_  
_will forward it to me._

          Vernon stared at the letter in disbelief.  Was Holly serious?  Did she actually _believe_ what she had written?  This was the strangest letter...  As he stared at the letter, the writing on the page started to fade…  All of the sudden Vernon felt the page slide from his grasp.  He looked up in surprise.  
          “What’s that you got there?” Trevors asked while he opened up the letter to look at it.   
          “Yeah,” said Montague grabbing the letter from Trevors.  
          “It’s a letter from my sister Holly.”  
          “Hey, there’s nothing on it!”  
          “Really?”  Vernon reached up and grabbed the letter back.  Sure enough, the page was absolutely blank!  Hadn’t he just read something on it a few seconds ago?  
          The fading ink had been the most difficult part of writing Vernon’s letter.  While all the Hufflepuffs agreed that Vernon should know about Holly, they also felt that such a letter was not safe to have lying around a Muggle school.  It could be too easily misunderstood or used to get Vernon in trouble.  Holly timed several classmates opening and reading the letter to determine how long the ink should remain visible.  Then she got Roland to cast a vanishing ink charm on the paper to guarantee the paper would become blank at the right time.  
          Vernon looked up at Trevors and Montague.  They were the two that had probably broken into the main office.  They had been with him last Spring. Vernon had tried to keep his word to Holly and his dad and keep away from Trevors and Montague but somehow, the more Vernon kept away the more they insisted on hanging out with him.   
          Ever since his talk with dad, Vernon had taken a second look at the two.  Both boys were tall and slender with brown hair.  Trevors had green eyes and Montague had brown.  They looked amazingly alike and did most everything together.  They both came from very wealthy families and were a year older than Vernon; Vernon had been pleased and honored when they asked him to join their group.   
          Trevors had a winning smile and could talk his way out of almost any situation.  Montague always had an idea of what to do during their free time:  what new tricks to play, whom to tease.  Breaking into the main office had been his idea.  Both boys had been worried when Vernon had been called in to talk to the headmaster last Fall and relieved when Vernon reported he had said nothing about them.  Trevors had felt it no big deal when he learned Vernon had been placed on probation; it wasn’t like it was an expulsion or anything….  Montague even suggested Vernon forge his dad’s name on the notification letter.  For all they knew Vernon had indeed forged his dad’s name; neither had bothered to inquire what had happened during his Holiday.   
         Vernon had been trying to watch the two objectively since his return.  They were the picture of virtue and innocence around the teachers and other adults but privately, neither boy had a nice word to say about anyone else, student or teacher.  They both loved using their knobbly sticks to harass the younger students.  Maybe they loved it too much.  Were they bullies in fine clothes?  Trevors said the knobbly sticks taught the other students to respect their elders but Vernon now thought it looked more like fear on the younger students’ faces, not respect.  Though smart, the two boys regularly copied and got others to do their schoolwork.  Montague said the school was one big family and everything should be shared, schoolwork included.  They frequently took whatever they wanted from the other students.  But Montague never shared _his_ things.   
          Vernon never minded the taking, he never had anything much of his own to share.  But Holly’s letter—they should have asked first before grabbing and reading.  Suddenly Vernon was glad that, for whatever reason, the writing on Holly’s letter had vanished.  What she had to say was _his_ business, not theirs.  In deciding that he came to a decision about Trevors and Montague; Vernon wanted his name cleared.  
          “Well,” Vernon said dismissively folding up the now blank page and putting it in the Smith envelope.  “Holly’s a little strange.  Lately, she has been claiming she is a witch…”  
          “That is a little strange,” agreed Montague.  
          “Yeah,” continued Vernon, “she got real angry when she found out I was on probation.  I told her it was no big deal but she said she going to curse the people who got me in trouble.  She doesn’t even know any names but she said she could still do it.”  
          “That’s dumb,” scoffed Trevors, “there’s no such thing as curses.”   
          “I know that; you know that,” said Vernon, “but try to convince my little sister that.  Like I said, she’s a little strange.”  Vernon laughed; they all laughed.  Vernon pulled open his desk drawer and put away the envelope.  The edge of a gold colored box glinted in the light.  
          “Hey, what’s that?” asked Trevors noticing the box.   
          “Oh, nothing,” said Vernon trying to shut the drawer.  But Trevors was too quick; his hand was in the drawer pulling out the box.  
          “That’s a real fancy box,” said Montague admiringly noting the gold embossed “W” on the top.   
          “Give it back,” said Vernon, “I really don’t want it ope—” but Trevors had already opened the box.  Both Trevors and Montague’s eyes lit up when they saw the candy within.   
          “You’ve been holding out on us,” said Trevors accusingly.  “We share everything, remember?”  Without asking he removed a piece and took a bite; Montague took another one and bit into it…


	14. Chapter 14

          “I can’t,” said Holly in a near panic.  “I just can’t!”  She was sitting in the infirmary talking to Madam Pomfrey.  Sasha was on her lap purring contentedly.  Madam Pomfrey had waited until detention ended and then waited two more weeks to make sure Holly was fully rested before describing what Holly had to do to learn how to block emotions.  
          “You have to,” she assured Holly.  “It’s the only way.”  
          “Can’t she just wait outside the classroom?  You know I don’t feel her that far…” persisted Holly.  “I told you what happened over the Holidays, I just can’t _bear_ to be without her.”  
          “It’s got to be all the way,” insisted Madam Pomfrey gently.  “You know as well as I do that if Sasha is anywhere nearby and something happens, you’ll reach out to her and she’ll come running.  You won’t learn to block, you’ll just strengthen your connection to Sasha.”  
          Unfortunately, this was probably true.  Ever since Sasha’s return from the cat man, Holly could sense Sasha’s presence wherever she was in her parent’s house.  Holly knew instantly whatever Sasha needed: food, to go out…  and Sasha had always known when she was needed or it was safe to show herself.  
          “It’s just like at the beginning of the school year,” explained Madam Pomfrey further.  “You couldn’t learn to sense different emotions and identify sources while you were still taking the purple potion and you won’t learn to block while Sasha is around.”  
          “But,” sobbed Holly stroking Sasha, “to leave Sasha up in the dorms all day—however will I manage?”  
          “You’ll do just fine,” assured Madam Pomfrey.  “You’re ready for this.  Just think of the warm feelings that always surrounded you with Sasha and make them for yourself.  You don’t have to build a cocoon—just aim those warm feelings in the direction of the emotion or pain you wish to block.  It’s like an invisible shield that you only use when necessary.”  Madam Pomfrey patted Holly on the back.  “You can do this,” she said reassuringly.  “You just have to try.  It will take lots of practice though, just like before.  Pick a student in class and try to block his or her emotions.  When you get one blocked, then you can try for another and then more.  You probably won’t have to block much physical pain from injuries of course, but I’m not sure I would recommend you watch the next quidditch match…”

 

********************

          “Are you O.K.?” asked Becky when Holly left the infirmary.  She could tell Holly had been crying.   
          “Not really,” answered Holly rubbing her eyes and holding Sasha tightly against her.  She explained the next step in learning how to block.  “I don’t think I can make it away from Sasha like that,” continued Holly.  “When Sasha was gone from my house, I was so scared; I wanted to curl up in a hole and die!”  
          “Don’t worry,” whispered Becky reassuringly.  “We’ll help you.  It’ll be O.K.”  But her words didn’t make Holly feel any better.  She was terrified.  She didn’t know how she would make it through the next day without Sasha.  When they got back up to the dorms, Becky called a quick House meeting and explained Holly’s situation.  Everyone agreed to help; the problem was no one knew quite how to help.  
          Holly’s next day turned into her worst nightmare.  First she had to leave Sasha in the dorms when it was time to go for breakfast.  Sasha wouldn’t be alone; other cats stayed in the dorms too, but Sasha looked so piteous when Holly told her she had to stay it was heartrending.  With Mark and Becky by her side, Holly cautiously ventured outside.  Every step took her further away from Sasha; every step made her feel more and more jittery.  The three left early so there would be fewer students at breakfast.  Even so, the combined emotions of the students hit her like a strong blast of cold air.  Holly sat at the furthest end of the table.  
          “You can do this,” she kept on telling herself, “you’ve done this all your life, it’s just like before…” but it wasn’t.  The emotions at Hogwarts were much stronger than the Muggle ones at her last school.  Even with the rest of the students at the other end of the Hall, Holly was acutely aware of their presence.  She managed to ignore them while she ate.  Midway through her meal though, Holly suddenly felt ravenously hungry and piled more food on her plate.  
          “Kippers and peanut butter?” asked Mark.   
          Holly stopped eating and looked at the food in her fork.  That did sound disgusting but here she was trying to eat it.  She looked up; several students had just walked in.  Holly wasn’t ravenously hungry, one of them was!  And someone in that group had a liking for Kippers and peanut butter…  Even knowing it was someone else’s emotion didn’t stop Holly from acting on it.  Holly fled the Great Halls.  No wonder she had always had an erratic appetite while at school in previous years alternating between stuffing and starving herself.  
          Becky found Holly curled up on her bed with Sasha.  “It’ll be O.K.,” said Becky reassuringly trying to convince Holly to attend class.  “Nobody will be hungry in class…  you won’t have the urge to eat weird food…  There’ll be less students…”  The words sounded good but Holly knew Becky was just as worried as she was about class.  “Come on,” Becky urged.  “You won’t know for sure until you try…”  Reluctantly Holly allowed Becky to walk her to class.  
          Professor Lovegood said nothing about the absent cat.  She started her lesson in her usual serene fashion.  With everyone focused on taking notes Holly found she could take notes too.  Then came the spell practice.  Students were working on _Protego_ —the shield spell.  The familiar knights now held swords that sent out sparks.  Each student selected a knight.  As a group they held their wands ready and on the count of  “three,” shouted _Protego!_  
          Some students succeeded in casting a proper spell; others got stung by the sparks.  Holly immediately felt as if she had been hit by numerous sparks.  They didn’t hurt much, each spark felt not much more than a tiny pinprick; several together hurt more.  She had managed to create a shield but still she felt sparks.  Holly’s shield couldn’t stop her from feeling the failure of other students.  Professor Lovegood moved up and down the rows correcting gestures and accents.  Again and again she counted to “three” and the students cast their spell.  Every time Holly felt the sting of sparks.  
          Finally, Professor Lovegood said it was time for independent practice.  The knights were set to shoot off sparks at random times and each student was to cast his/her spell independently.  Holly faced off with her knight _.  “Protego!”_ she shouted before the knight had finished lifting its wand to give out sparks.  Holly's shield held until Becky, nearby, blew her own spell and got zapped—then Holly felt the sparks as they hit Becky.  Distracted, she let her own shield down only to be hit by an actual stream of sparks from her knight…  
          Holly tried again.  _“Protego_!” she shouted.  This time her word came out at exactly the same time as Susan Breysburry.  Susan had been ready to cast the spell; Holly had not, yet she had shouted it anyway.  Holly’s spell fizzled in the air uselessly.  She again got zapped!  
_“Protego!”_ Over and over Holly heard that word to be followed by stings and pain and/or elation at success.  She hurt, felt frustrated and elated all at the same time.  Holly could no longer focus on casting her own spell.  She could barely control her own actions.  Stumblingly, she ran from the room crying.

 

********************

          Holly curled up in a corner of the girl’s bathroom and continued crying.  It was the nearest place of solitude, deserted, as usual.  Moaning Myrtle came out of the toilet to investigate but Holly was too busy crying to notice.  Ghosts didn’t bother her as much as living people did.  Finally, her tears ran dry and she became calmer.  Gradually Holly became aware that someone was in the room with her.  She opened her eyes and looked.  Professor Lovegood had squatted silently on the floor next to her.  How did she do that?  Holly could easily sense the emotional presence of students from across the room.  Professor Lovegood had an emotional presence too, but it was more like a soft whisper heard only on a quiet still summer day.  Harry Potter was like that too, quiet—even with his emotions.   
          Holly sat up.  “Professor Lovegood,” she babbled apologetically, “I’m sorry I ran out.  I couldn’t do it.  There were just too many people in the room.  Madam Pomfrey said to pick one person and block those emotions, but I don’t know how to do that.  Even if I did, what good would it do?  What about all the other students in the room?  I just can’t make it without Sasha!”  Holly burst out into tears again.  
          Professor Lovegood waited patiently until the sobbing stopped.  Then she produced a damp handkerchief and proceeded to wipe Holly’s face.  As she wiped she spoke, “The other girl with the cat,” she began softly, almost to herself, “she hummed a lot.  I suppose it helped…”  Professor Lovegood helped Holly to her feet.  “Your friends are waiting for you outside,” she said gently while walking Holly to the bathroom doors.  “Transfigurations won’t be nearly as difficult.”  
          Mark and Becky greeted Holly when she stepped outside the bathroom doors.  Becky had all of Holly’s things.  The three of them hurried off to their next class.   
          “Are you O.K.?” asked Becky worried.  Holly nodded.  “What did the Professor say?”  
          “She said to “hum”,” replied Holly thoughtfully.  
          “Hum what?”  
          “I don’t know.  A song, I guess.”  
          “That shouldn’t be too hard,” said Mark.  “After all you’re in choir…”  
          So Holly thought of a song she knew from choir and started to hum it.  Recognizing the tune Becky joined in.  Music always made Holly feel better and it did so now.  But would it help her during class?  
          Again, not a word was spoken when the three slipped into class late.  Holly was glad Professor Iverson was her Transfiguration teacher.  She was also Head of the Hufflepuff house.  She seemed to know that they would not have been late without a good reason and didn’t take up class time making embarrassing inquiries.  That did not stop Professor Iverson from expecting them to keep up with the class work.  
          Susan Breysburry hastily whispered the day’s lesson and soon they were all attempting the latest spell— _Reparo_.  In front of each student was a small pile of broken shards of pottery.  It was their job to return the pile to its original shape.  Holly didn’t have much success with the spell.  She was too busy humming.  It did seem to help.  Humming helped her to ignore the other students while they cast their spells.  Student elation at success seemed to offset their disappointments at failure.  And when Holly did try to cast the spell, at least it was not in sinc with any spell cast by another student.   
          Albus hurried up to Holly after class while she was collecting her things.  “Are you O.K.?” he asked worriedly.  “You look awful.  Did the Slytherins do something again?  They wouldn’t tell us,” he said meaning the rest of the Hufflepuffs.  
          Holly shook her head.  “No,” she replied briefly, “it’s not the Slytherins.”  She didn’t feel up to explaining further.  
          Rose came up behind them, “Where’s Sasha?” she asked Holly.  “Is she O.K.?”  
          “Sasha’s fine” said Holly.  “She’s in the dorms,” then Holly added, “I’m not allowed to bring her to class anymore.”  
          “Oh, no!” whispered Rose in horror realizing the full impact of what that meant, “That’s awful!  Is there anything we can do to help?”  
          “Not much,” sighed Holly lifting her bag.  “I’ve just got to learn to deal with it.  Right now, the only thing that seems to help is to hum...”  
          “Well,” said Rose sympathetically, “if we can help, let us know.  Good luck.”  She and Albus hurried off to join the rest of the Gryffindors.

 

********************

          Holly spent her lunchtime in the dorms holding Sasha.  Exhausted by the morning activities, she lay on her bed cradling Sasha in her arms and took a long nap.  Becky woke her for dinner.  The two went down to the Great Hall after most everyone else had finished eating.  Having missed lunch, Holly was very hungry—until she entered the Great Hall.  Then she felt extremely full.  She realized the fullness was the feeling of other students leaving the Hall, not her.  So she forced herself to eat while trying to hum knowing that if she didn’t, she would feel starved again once she left the Great Hall.  
          Holly found it disturbing to note that the Slytherin students who passed did not regard her with their usual disdain.  Instead, they seemed to regard her with curiosity.  That did not bode well for the future.  
          After dinner Holly reported to Madam Pomfrey.  “It was perfectly horrid,” complained Holly to Madam Pomfrey while reporting her experiences of the day.  “At breakfast I couldn’t stop myself from eating and I knew I wasn’t even hungry!  No wonder doctors used to accuse me of being bulimic!  I remember there were times at school I would stuff myself so full of food I could barely move.  Afterwards, I would always wonder why I did it.  
          And then, during the Defense Against the Dark Arts class,” continued Holly in a rush.  “It was like everyone was shouting at me at once only it was all in my head and I couldn’t escape it.  There was no way I could conjure up warm feelings of Sasha with that going on.  And the _Protegio_ spell, it’s supposed to be a shield spell.  It was positively useless!  It didn’t do a thing against all the other needle pricks that I kept on feeling which came from the students who couldn’t get their spells right!  You told me to pick one student’s emotion and try to block it; that may work with two or three students present in the first place but doesn’t work in a classroom when everyone else is also bombarding me with their emotions.”  
          Holly took a deep breath and added,  “Professor Lovegood suggested I hum.  It does seem to help but I can’t really hum and eat at the same time.  And what if the teachers tell me I can’t hum during class?”  
          Madam Pomfrey listened until Holly ran out of words.  Then she spoke.  “I don’t think it is the humming as much as it is focusing on something to the exclusion of all else.  It can easily be a prayer, a chant or a thought but music is much easier to wholly embrace.  Unfortunately it does not actually block outside emotions, it just puts them in the background.  While humming may help you get through the day, you still have to learn to block.”  
          “So what do I do?  Trying to think about Sasha didn’t work.  How else am I supposed to block?”  
          Madam Pomfrey thought a while.  “To tell you the truth,” she said, “not much is known about the mechanics of blocking that Empaths use.  There are so few of them and they don’t advertise their abilities.”  
          “What about this girl that attended Hogwarts before that Professor Lovegood mentioned,” said Holly desperately, “could we maybe ask her?”  
          “Her situation was a bit different from yours,” acknowledged Madam Pomfrey.  “She came from a wizard family and didn’t experience the same kind of problems as you.  But I could look into contacting her and seeing what she says.”  
          “Would you?” exclaimed Holly.  “That would really help.”  
          “In the meantime,” continued Madam Pomfrey, “you keep Sasha in the dorms and continue humming, if that helps.  But keep trying to block.  Most likely as you get used to all the outside emotions, you’ll find your own way to block.”  
          Holly left the infirmary feeling a bit more hopeful, but not much.  She and Becky made their way back to the dorms.  While there, Holly copied all of Mark’s notes on the day’s classes; she hadn’t managed to write anything that approached legible and had even less idea of what the Professors had actually said.  In the peace of the dorms, with Sasha on her shoulder she could make better sense of the lecture material and started on the written homework.

 

********************

          At midnight, the first year Hufflepuffs trooped out for class with Professor Firenze.  The students sat out under the stars, snuggled under blankets, and watched for comets.  Sitting apart from the other students Holly felt herself relax for the first time since she had gone without Sasha.  Humming softly, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine Sasha next to her purring happily.  For the faintest instant, all the outside emotions seemed to fade into nothingness.   
          But then Susan coughed and Mark shouted excitedly, “Hey, I see one!”  And the moment was lost.  Outside emotions rushed in vying for space with her own feelings and Holly again focused on her humming.  
          The next day went much better than Holly expected.  Humming in Potions worked out quite well.  It kept Holly focused on task and her anti fungus potion turned out perfectly, much to the delight of Professor Slughorn.  (3 points for Hufflepuff.)   
          In Charms, the class was learning— _Alohomora_ —the students had a locked box placed on their desks, which they then had to unlock.  Once opened, the box contained a second, nested box, also locked…  Humming again helped Holly ignore the other students and she managed to eventually open the first two locked boxes.  Mark got all the way to the fifth nested locked box.  (5 points for Hufflepuff)  Their Slytherin classmates, instead of being annoyed, merely broadcast curiosity.  Holly had no doubt about what or _whom_ they were curious.  
          Holly ate lunch after most of the students had left the Great Hall.  It was easier to force herself to eat when non hungry students passed by than to try to stop from ravenously stuffing herself as she had had to do the previous day.   
          Professor Longbottom had the students potting and tending plants in the newly repaired greenhouse.  Humming was no hindrance to class instruction.  In fact, Becky heard Holly and joined in humming too.  Then other students took up the song and soon the whole class cheerfully kept time with the music.  Class ended all too soon for Holly.   
          Professor Binns droned on as usual putting all the students to sleep.  He didn’t care if a student hummed.  Humming kept Holly awake but she couldn’t really hear what he had said.  No matter, she never could understand Professor Binns well enough to take decent notes.  Fortunately, Mark still took great notes and going over his notes with him in the evening helped both of them study.  
          Holly dreaded the thought of attending Defense Against the Dark Arts class again.  She doubted she could manage wand work even with humming.  Fortunately for her, Professor Lovegood pulled Holly aside as the rest of the students entered the practice room.  
          “You seem to be spending a lot of time in the girl’s bathroom,” she began.  “It doesn’t look very good right now.  I think you need to put your skills to use making it look better…  _Reparo_ should do nicely for today.  I shall expect you to practice _Protego_ on your own time this afternoon.  Understand?”   
          Holly nodded gratefully.  She grabbed her things and headed for the bathroom.  “Thank you, Professor Lovegood,” she shouted as she left the room.

 

********************

          Moaning Myrtle got very excited when she learned the reason for Holly’s presence in the bathroom.  “No one has ever taken time to clean this bathroom before,” she said eagerly.  She even offered to flood the toilets so there would be enough water to clean the floors and such.   
          “Not today,” Holly told Myrtle.  “I’m supposed to use _Reparo_ and I’ve only just learned it; I am not very good at it yet.”  And indeed it took several attempts to get anything to move back into place let alone seamlessly mend itself.  Holly started with the mirrors.  Myrtle helped her find the scattered shards; if they were too far apart from each other they wouldn’t react to the spell.  With Myrtle offering all sorts of advice on how to hold the wand and what to say, Holly eventually succeeded in repairing the mirrors.   
          Then she went to work on the broken tiles.  There were a lot of broken tiles.  Holly had finished about half of the tiles when Becky came in and told her it was time to go to Transfigurations.  The two assured Myrtle that Holly would probably be back next week to work on the bathroom some more…

 

********************

          Gradually, Holly got used to life without Sasha by her side.  By eating late, avoiding large crowds and other students whenever possible and steadily humming, she managed to get through each day.  Over the weekend she stayed pretty much in the dorms keeping Sasha company.   
          Meanwhile, Mark looked up some cleaning and repairing spells and had Holly practice them.  When Professor Lovegood asked her to return to the bathroom the next week Holly was ready to finish the job.  With Myrtle’s excited input and floor flooding, the bathroom slowly transformed from a filthy broken depressing place to one that sparkled and gleamed.  One day Holly was just about ready to leave for her next class when the door opened: Martina Goyle and her Slytherin friend Shirley Ogg walked in.  The two always traveled together.  Martina was fairly heavy while Shirley was tall and thin.  Together, the two reminded Holly of a Hippo and a giraffe on the prowl.  
          “So this is where you’ve been hiding out during Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Martina said appraisingly.  As usual Martina’s short brown hair was tied into two stubby braids and she seemed to clunk in those heavy shoes of hers while her thick body pushed its way around the bathroom forcing Holly to step aside as she moved. She inspected the interior of some of the bathroom stalls.  “I can’t imagine why there would be an OUT OF ORDER sign outside.”  
          “It looks very nice in here,” added Shirley noting the sparkling fixtures and white walls. “You’d never believe what this place looked like a couple of weeks ago when I peeked in.  It was positively disgusting.  Who knew a Hufflepuff could clean as well as a house-elf.  I must remember that if my house-elf gets tired.  Come on, Martina,” added Shirley with a toss of her short curly blonde hair, “we’ve got to get to class.”  As the two girls turned to leave, the jar balanced on top of Martina’s books slid off and fell with a resounding crash.  Its contents splashed all over the floor.  
          “Oops,” said Martina, “Sorry about that,” looking and feeling not the least bit sorry about the mess she had just created.   
          “No problem,” said Shirley blithely.  She pointed her wand at the splintered glass and shouted _“Reparo!”_   The shattered pieces of glass immediately reformed into the original bottle.  “Oh dear,” Shirley said in a voice that oozed false concern noting the original contents of the bottle remained scattered on the floor hissing, spitting and sizzling.  “I guess we shall have to go back and get some more Lizard Spit for Professor Slughorn.  Good thing I’ve still got this specially enchanted jar to hold it.”  
          “And it’s fortunate you are so good at cleaning bathrooms,” added Martina nastily.  “I’m sure you’ll have this taken care of in no time.”  The two girls laughed and opened the bathroom door to leave.  Holly, shaking with anger, helplessly watched them leave; she didn’t know what to do.   
          Suddenly, a flushing sound came from one of the stalls and Moaning Myrtle swooped out of a toilet.  She flew through Martina making her jump and parked herself in the threshold of the bathroom entrance door facing them.  “How dare you mess up my bathroom!” she shouted making them both back up.  “I’ve been waiting eighty years to have this place fixed up and you ruin it on the very day it gets finished!!!!  You two are nothing but bullies!  Mean, nasty bullies!”  Myrtle continued in a rage.  “I don’t like bullies.  I’ll remember you!!!!”  She screeched making the two girls back up further.  “You’ll be sorry!”  Myrtle swooped through Shirley and back into a toilet with a splash.  The toilet then flushed loudly announcing her departure.   
          Both Slytherin girls quickly fled the bathroom leaving Holly to assess the damage.  Holly was close to tears.  She, of all persons, knew how difficult, if not impossible, it would be to repair the damage made by lizard spit.   
          “What happened?” asked Mark.  He and Becky had seen the Slytherin girls leave in a hurry and knew something was up.  They had rushed into the bathroom as quickly as possible to check on Holly.  Holly numbly pointed to the spreading damage of the lizard spit.   
          “Isn’t there some way we can stop or neutralize it?” asked Becky recognizing the spit effect from numerous visits to Hagrid.   
          Holly shook her head.  “Not that I know of,” she reflected sadly.  “Do you know of anything?”   
          Both Becky and Mark shook their heads.  “Why don’t we rinse what we can down the drain and wait to see what it looks like when it dries,” said Mark.  “We can check on it after lunch.”  So the three splashed water on the spit and urged the bubbling liquid down the nearest drain.   
          “Where is Myrtle when you need her?” thought Holly grimly while they worked; a flooded bathroom would have helped.  They were late to Transfigurations again.  This time no one else knew the cause of their absence.   
          Professor Iverson raised her eyebrows at the three.  “I expect to see the three of you after class today,” was all she said and continued on with her lesson.  After class Professor Iverson assigned each a foot long report on the difference between transforming inanimate objects to animate objects and transforming animate objects to inanimate objects.  Their absence hadn’t been totally unavoidable.

 

********************

          Mark, Becky and Holly surveyed the damage done to the bathroom with dismay.  Despite their best efforts, several pieces of tile had totally dissolved; others were so damaged they would have to be replaced.  There was a big gaping hole in one of the mirrors where the spit had splashed up.  
          "It's not like you are being ordered to repair this," said Mark thoughtfully.  "It's the Slytherins that should take care of it."  
          “Yeah, like they’d do it,” said Becky scornfully.   
          “But Myrtle was so happy when I did it.  I hate to see it like this,” said Holly sorrowfully.   
          Mark sighed.  “Oh, well,” he said, “best get on with it.”  He took out his wand and pointed it at a damaged tile.  _“Diffindo!”_ he said.  Holly bent down and pried the loosened tile up off the floor.  An hour later they had removed all the damaged tiles.   
          Becky counted the empty spaces.  “Thirteen tiles,” she announced.  “Got any ideas where we might find some more tiles?”   
          Both Holly and Mark shook their heads.  “We’ll have to ask around, I guess,” said Mark finally.  
          “I know where there are some tiles,” said a voice behind them.  Moaning Myrtle had returned and was watching their efforts.  “And a mirror, too,” she added.  “Of course, it’s broken right now but I’m sure you could bring all the pieces here and then repair it…”  
          “Where might that be?” asked Holly.   
          But Myrtle, easily distracted, was staring intently at Mark.  “A boy in the girls’ bathroom?” she said interestedly, “Oooooh, I haven’t had one of them in ages.  Not since Harry.  What’s your name?”  
          Mark stared back at Myrtle.  “Uh, Mark,” he said.  “You were saying something about tiles?” he asked reminding Myrtle of their original problem.  
          “Well, there’s a whole stack of them all loosened up in the Slytherin girls’ bathroom.”  
          “How did that happen?” inquired Becky curiously.  
          “I got a little angry this morning,” confessed Myrtle.  
          “I didn’t know you could lift tiles,” commented Mark impressed.  
          “I can’t,” admitted Myrtle, “but when Peeves heard what had happened he decided to help out.  I stopped up all the toilets and made them flood.  Then Peeves had a grand time with the rest of the bathroom.  Nobody can tear up things like Peeves,” she concluded proudly.  
          “It’s an interesting idea, Myrtle,” said Holly, “but we’re Hufflepuffs.  We can’t enter the Slytherin bathroom.  I don’t even know where it is.”  
          “That’s no problem,” said Myrtle eagerly, “I’ll show you.”  
          “But what about the password?” asked Becky.  “Isn’t their dorm protected from outside entry?”  
          “Of course,” said Myrtle.  “But it doesn’t stop the people inside from coming out.  I’ll get Peeves to open the door from the inside.”  
          “But someone is bound to see us—we’ll get caught!” worried Becky.  
          “Not if you do it now,” assured Myrtle.  “Dinnertime’s just started and everyone is out eating.  I checked.”   
          The three friends looked at each other.  “This is crazy,” said Mark finally.  “It feels a lot like breaking and entering, theft and a whole bunch of other things I don’t even want to think about.”  
          “It also feels like justice,” responded Holly firmly.  “You were the one who said the Slytherins should take care of this mess.  I don’t think there’s any other way they’ll help…”  She looked back at Myrtle.  “Do you really think we can do it?”  
          “And not get caught?” added Becky hopefully.  Myrtle didn’t answer.  She just drifted overhead waiting expectantly.   
          Holly swiftly made up her mind.  “Well, I’m going give it a try,” she said to Myrtle.  “Show me the way.”  
          “I’ll meet you in the dungeons!”  Myrtle said cheerfully and with a swoop disappeared down the toilet; it then flushed noisily.  Holly raced out of the bathrooms and started quickly down the halls.   
          “You must be out of your mind!” complained Mark as he hurried to catch up with Holly.  “It’s just a ghost and an out-of-order bathroom.  It’s not worth the risk getting in trouble.”  
          Holly wheeled around and looked at Mark and then Becky who had just caught up.  “You don’t have to come with me,” she began, “But doing the bathroom was more than a classroom assignment for me.  I made a commitment to fix it and I intend to keep it if possible.  If I don’t succeed, so be it, but it won’t be for lack of trying.”  Then she turned and continued down the hallway.  
          Grumbling, Mark and Becky hurried to keep up with her.  “Must be that 'Potter' blood in her!” muttered Mark as they strode along.

 

********************

          Surprisingly, they didn’t meet anyone on their trip down to the dungeons.  Walking down the cold dank hall they all wondered “where next?”  Suddenly, a blank section of wall opened up and Peeves, the poltergeist, floated gracefully out a hidden passageway.  Holly rushed to get to the door before it closed.  Peeves noted the group, smiled, gave them a salute and drifted away.  The three of them slipped inside.   
          The Slytherin common room was long with a low ceiling.  It was decorated in green and silver.  Round greenish colored lamps hung from chains.  A fire burned cheerfully in the hearth.  Several large high-backed chairs with dark green cushions were placed facing the fire.  But the three Hufflelpuffs were too worried about getting caught to take in the details.  
          “Is it really empty?” asked Becky looking around worriedly.  
          “Yes,” assured Holly.  
          “Over here!” shouted Myrtle.  They followed her voice to the bathroom.  Then Myrtle swooped out.  “I’ll keep the Baron busy,” she announced and left.  
          “Whew!” whistled Mark as he surveyed the damage Peeves had wrought.  Broken glass, toilet stall doors wrenched off their hinges, all sorts of tile ripped from the floor lying about…  the place looked like a tornado had hit it.  
          “Stack the tiles,” commanded Holly.  “Look later.”  She pulled off her robe and then her top sweater with the class colors.  With Becky’s help she put the broken shards of mirror inside the sweater intending to use it as a bag of sorts.   
          Meanwhile, Mark counted out thirteen unbroken tiles and placed them in two neat stacks.  When he finished, he straightened and looked over at the other two.  “Ready?” he asked.   
          Holly put her robe back on.  Then she carefully tucked her sweater filled with mirror shards beneath the robe.  “Ready,” she replied.  With wands extended, they used _Wingardium Leviosa_ and floated the two stacks to the exit.  The door opened automatically for them as they left.  
          Use of magic was not permitted outside in the halls at Hogwarts.  All three stowed their wands.  Mark opened his robe; he divided the tiles of one stack and stuck some under each arm.  Becky closed Mark’s robe over his arms and the tiles.  Then she divided the other stack placing the tiles under her own arms and Holly closed over Becky’s robe.  
          Carefully, the three walked away from the Slytherin house entrance. They all had to walk rather stiffly, but the tiles and mirror shards were hidden from the casual observer.  The three had just rounded a corner when Holly whispered urgently:  “Hide!  Someone’s coming!”  Mark and Becky quickly ducked behind a couch and Holly hid behind a pillar.  A moment later, four Slytherin students casually walked past discussing professors and homework.   
          When the footsteps died away Holly announced in a whisper.  “All clear,” and she came out from under cover.  The three continued slowly ducking frequently to avoid returning Slytherin students.  Holly was always able to give advance notice even when Mark and Becky thought the way was clear.  All three breathed a sigh of relief when they finally made it out of the dungeons.   
          Next they had to get past the entryway and up the stairs.  A slow steady walk enabled them to continue without generating too much notice from other students.  
          _“Hey stop!”_  
          The shout caused the three to freeze in their steps.  Then there was the sound of breaking glass.  Holly cautiously turned around and looked.  Peeves had just thrown a stink bomb at the entrance of the Great Hall causing students to scatter every which way.  Taking advantage of the distraction, Becky, Mark and Holly raced up the stairs and down the hall stopping only when they were back inside the girl’s bathroom.  
          “I never want to do anything like that again!” said Mark breathlessly as he set down the tiles.  
          “Me neither,” agreed Becky setting down her own tiles.  
          Holly merely nodded as she carefully pulled out the mirror shards and laid them on the floor.  She pulled out her wand, pointed it and said _“Reparo!”_   She watched with satisfaction as the broken pieces melded together to make a seamless whole mirror.  Mark helped her remove the damaged piece and slide the new one in its place.   
          Becky cleaned off the tiles and started placing them in the empty spots on the floor.  “It’s not going to match,” she observed as she laid in the new tiles.  “Do you think Myrtle will mind?”  
          “I don’t think so,” answered Holly.  “It was her idea, after all.”  She and Mark helped Becky put in all the tiles.  Together they fixed tiles in place with Tile Grow-Grout—a substance Holly had brought in earlier to secure loose tiles.  A final sweeping and the bathroom was again finished.   
          “I’m hungry,” announced Mark when the job was done.  “Do you think there’s any food left?”   
          “Maybe, if we hurry.”  The three left the bathroom in search of some food.  
          “I think Myrtle will like it a lot,” reflected Holly out loud thinking of the last survey she had made of the finished room as they left.  The white walls gleamed, the mirrors shone, the brass fixtures shined and in the middle of the spotless white floor, each rimmed with a quarter-inch sparkly silver border, were thirteen Kelly green tiles.

 

********************

          Leila came up to Holly while they were cleaning their things in Potions the next day.  Her curly auburn hair was tied back in a ponytail.  “Did you notice,” began Leila conversationally, “the Slytherin girls have been using the bathroom near the Grand Hall.”   
          Holly thought.  “No, I hadn’t,” she replied.  She had been too busy dodging people to notice what they were doing when they were elsewhere.  The Ravenclaws were incredibly observant.  
          “Would you know anything about that?”   
          How would Leila know to ask her?  Maybe they were just asking everyone from other houses…  “A couple of the Slytherin girls got Moaning Myrtle mad yesterday,” Holly replied while drying her cauldron.  
          “Ah,” said Leila nodding with understanding.  She brushed back a loose strand of curly red brown hair and repinned it behind her barrette.  “It is never a good idea to make a ghost mad…”

 


	15. Chapter 15

                   _**Dear Holly,**_

          Vernon had actually written!  Holly had been afraid he wouldn’t—especially after the things she had put in her last letter to him.

**_My name has been cleared.  Thanks._**

          Vernon decided it was not a good idea to put too many details in his letter.  Trevors and Montague had a nasty habit of reading other people’s mail…   
          Holly’s plan had worked brilliantly.  Trevors had gotten the nosebleed first and bolted out of the room in search of something to staunch the blood.  Montague had bitten into the safe half and watched in confusion as Trevors left.   
          Vernon had taken a candy and nibbled on the safe side, too, and after Trevors had left, innocently asked, “You don’t suppose she can really do it, you know, curse people, do you?”  
          “Naw,” replied Montague casually.  Then he popped the rest of the candy into his mouth thus eating the other side…   
          As soon as Montague left, Vernon quickly gathered up the pieces of candy and threw them in the garbage.  He never said another word about Holly and her curse.  
          The next day, both Montague and Trevors received zeros for plagiarizing their book reports.  Vernon, on the other hand, received high marks.  The Professor commented that Vernon’s report displayed an enthusiasm and understanding of the plot and characters that could only be achieved by actually reading the book and completing the report in the spirit intended.  
          Later on, it started to rain and Montague had to take one of the younger student’s umbrellas as he had forgotten to bring his own.  The umbrella he had taken just happened to be broken and wouldn’t open right…Trevors closed his own dripping umbrella too near his bag and got his papers all wet.  Then the vending machine was out of their favorite snack…  Little things kept going wrong for them.  Each event was no big deal, but now, collectively, they seemed to take on a greater importance and every time something else happened Vernon noticed Trevors and Montague would frown a bit and look worried.  
          A week later Trevors and Montague had paid Vernon a visit in his room.  “Look,” said Trevors finally, “you know we don’t really believe in curses and stuff, but if we can clear your name, do you think you can get your sister to call off her curse thing?”  
          “Yeah,” agreed Montague, “just thinking about her makes bad Karma.”  
          Of course Vernon agreed.  The next day he was called into the headmaster’s office.  Three younger students had apparently walked into the headmaster’s office earlier.  The three confessed that on the very day and hour of the break-in Vernon had been with them using his knobbly stick administering discipline and improving their physical health by supervising the three while they exercised.  The students had been too ashamed to admit to it earlier…  It was all a total lie, of course, but the Headmaster believed the tale.  The three students received a detention for failing to come forward sooner and Vernon got an apology.  
          It wasn’t quite the way Vernon expected to get his name cleared, but it would have to do.  That night both Trevors and Montague watched while Vernon drafted a letter to Holly asking her to call off the curse.  Vernon never sent it, of course.  Two days later Vernon produced the red vinegar bottle now carrying a label, which read:

**LIFTING CURSES**

**for best results, take one tablespoon at exactly midnight**

          Vernon explained to Trevors and Montague that he had found the bottle in his drawer; it hadn’t been there the night before…(it had been in his bag.)  It must be in response to his letter to Holly…  
          That night, at exactly midnight, Vernon had held the bottle while both Trevors and Montague downed their tablespoon of liquid.  Vernon had a hard time keeping a straight face while the two boys gagged on the stuff.  But they were convinced the curse had been lifted after Montague received top marks on one of his papers the next day (also copied) and Trevors found a wallet in a desk drawer containing ten pounds!

**_I am looking for some new friends now._**

           The best part, both boys now left Vernon alone as if afraid his crazy sister might try something else…  This left Vernon free to make some new friends but, as his dad predicted, that was easier said than done.  The other students were afraid of Vernon, afraid of his connection with Trevors and Montague.  Vernon finally decided his best bet was a boy named Kenneth Perkins.  Perkins had been in the infirmary the last few days: Trevors and Montague had told Perkins to provide an alibi for Vernon along with the three other boys.  Perkins had refused.   
          Perkins never said a word about who had beaten him up.  Vernon knew from past experience that Trevors and Montague would continue harassing Perkins; they liked nothing better than a challenge.  He also knew that no one else would probably go near Perkins now for fear of angering Trevors and Montague.  Kenneth Perkins was definitely in need of a friend.  Perkins was the kind of person Holly had recommended.  Maybe a visit to the infirmary and a heartfelt apology would be in order.  Vernon already had at least one thing in common with Perkins; they had both refused to rat on Trevors and Montague.  They would also both be trying to keep their distance from Trevors and Montague.  Maybe that was enough to start a friendship…

 **_I don’t know what to think about the rest of the stuff you wrote.  We can_ **  
**_talk about that later during the summer.  I hope things are going well for you at school._**

**_Yours truly,_**

**_Vernon_**

**_P.S. the disappearing ink is neat.  Keep using it._**

          Holly folded Vernon’s letter and tucked it away in a drawer.  It hadn’t told her much, but at least he was writing.  She’d have to think about what to write back.  So much had gone on but not much that she could write to Vernon about as he didn’t know anything about Hogwarts or its people.   
          Lately there had been a rash of injuries—nothing big or noticeable, unless one was an Empath.   
          Julie Ross had accidentally bumped her head right before Potions, and Alessa Moore, one of the Ravenclaw students, had limped in with a scraped knee.  Neither injury was serious enough to require an immediate trip to the infirmary so both students had continued to class as usual.  To her dismay Holly discovered that while humming helped her ignore emotions, it did nothing for physical pain.  So she sat through class with a pounding headache and knee that stung with every movement Alessa made.  Holly did poorly on the morning quiz and her potion exploded without warning with the remains turning into a gooey mass that wasn’t even worth grading.  
          Before Charms, Hugh Douglass slipped in the mud scraping his knees and spraining his wrist while breaking the fall.  So Holly had an aching wrist, stinging scratches and a diminishing headache to contend with.  To make matters worse, Shirley Ogg decided to sit near Holly.  Shirley apparently had developed a mad crush on Anthony Richards in class. (After Holly figured out Shirley was “in love,” it didn’t take long to follow her amorous glances and determine which person Shirley had her eyes on.) So whenever Holly quit humming she found herself immersed in romantic daydreams…  
          Students with various ailments seemed to attend every class.  Keith Finnegan, a Gryffindor, ate too much for lunch and came to Herbology with a stomachache.  Conner Fitzpatrick, another Gryffindor came to class feeling incredibly hungry...  Sylvia MacKenzie had a toothache.  Kelly Davies, of Ravenclaw, stubbed her toe before the History of Magic class... Holly felt every malady.  And it wasn’t just one day.  All week students came to class with various sprained ankles, stubbed toes, cuts, bruises, scratches and headaches.  While any one of them was annoying, combined, Holly sometimes felt so distracted she could no longer concentrate on schoolwork within the classroom.   
          The weekend came as a welcome relief from all the various aches and pains she had encountered during class.  Holly spent as much time as possible in the dorms with Sasha on her lap catching up on lost work; she ate her meals late and even chose to miss the latest quidditch match fearing the possible aches and pains it might bring.  
          “Are you coming?”  Becky said impatiently.  Holly sighed and picked up her things.  Reluctantly she said “goodbye” to Sasha and followed Becky out the door.  She hoped this week would be better than last with less student injuries.  Who knew that there would come a time when she would welcome the standard onslaught of student emotions without accompanying pain.  
          The moment Holly stepped into Potions she knew it would be another rough week.  Two of the Ravenclaw students had headaches and Susan seemed to have sprained her wrist and accidently squashed two crickets in her bag.  
          “I’m sorry,” whispered Susan knowing that Holly could feel the sprain.  Holly could tell the loss of the crickets bothered her more than the pain of her wrist. “But my feet just slid out from under me and my books went flying and I couldn’t help myself!”  Holly nodded sympathetically knowing Susan meant every word.  Accidents do happen, but they’d been happening so frequently lately.  Holly’s potion again had to be tossed in the garbage.  
          Leila came over to Holly while they were cleaning up.  Leila had a huge bump on her forehead and a headache to match.  It hurt to stand next to her.  “Did you notice all the recent injuries?” she asked Holly conversationally.  
          “Uh, yes, I did,” replied Holly trying hard to ignore her now pounding headache.  
          “Did you notice that they have only happened to First year students and _only_ to students right before they attend class with Hufflepuffs?”  Leila’s words chilled Holly to the bone.  No, she hadn’t noticed that; she’d been too distracted by all the pain…  “The Slytherins know you’re an Empath,” concluded Leila saying the words Holly had dreaded to hear all year.  Leila wiped her cauldron dry, turned to leave and then added,  “We thought you should know…”  
          “Thank you,” whispered Holly distractedly, stunned by what Leila had said.  Then Holly called out, “Leila?”  Leila turned and looked at Holly expectantly.  “I’m so very sorry,” Holly added.  Holly suddenly realized that Leila’s bump might never have happened were it not for her.  Holly couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down her face.  Leila nodded and walked off.  
          “What’s wrong?” asked Becky as they hurried to Charms.  She could tell Holly was upset.  
          “The Slytherins know I’m an Empath!  That’s why everyone keeps on having accidents!”  
          “What?!!” exclaimed Mark, listening in.  “How did that happen?  Wouldn’t you have known?”  
          How indeed?  Holly was wondering that very thing.  She used to be able to tell when the Slytherins were planning something at mealtimes, except without Sasha, Holly had avoided eating with the group as a whole.  The only other time she had regular contact with the Slytherins was during classes.  Surely she would have noticed something then, except—  
          “I’ve been avoiding the Slytherins at mealtimes and, Shirley has had this horrible crush on Anthony so whenever I’m not humming in class near the Slytherins, I can’t take my mind off of Anthony…,” Holly confessed.   
          “I bet she’s taken a love potion!” said Mark angrily.  
          “What can we do?” worried Becky.  
          “The only thing we can do,” replied Mark.  “We’ve got to warn everyone.  The Slytherins must be involved somehow in causing all the accidents.  If we all keep on the lookout we might be better able to avoid them.”  
          “Well,” began Holly, “the Ravenclaws already know; they told me.  I’ll tell my cousins; they’ll warn all the Gryffindors, and we can pass the word to the rest of the Hufflepuffs.”   
          “What kind of magic causes accidents?” inquired Becky.   
          “I don’t know,” replied Mark.  “I’ll ask Roland and Stephen at lunch.”   
          By this time, they had reached their Charms classroom.  Holly sat as far away as possible from Shirley.  But Anthony, who was sitting nearer to Holly, got up and traded seats with Shirley.  Shirley had a dreamy look on her skinny face and oozed affection.  
          “Oh, get a life!” muttered Holly darkly and turned her attention to her work.

 ********************

 

          Holly waited with Becky outside the Great Halls so she could catch one of her cousins coming to lunch.  James came down first with some of his friends.  He stopped when he saw Holly and Becky.  Telling his friends to go on without him, he came over to Holly.  
          “Hi-ya Cuz,” he said affectionately; a week of detention together did wonders for strengthening family ties.  “What’s up?”  
          Holly quickly told James about all the accidents and how the Ravenclaws thought it was a Slytherin attempt to get at her…  James frowned as she spoke.  Both Albus and Rose had commented on the recent number of injuries and ailments among the first years.  They hadn’t connected it with Holly, but it made sense.  
          “Thanks for letting me know,” he told Holly.  “We’ll take care of it from our end.”  Then seeing Holly’s stricken face he added encouragingly, “Hey, it’ll be O.K. Don’t worry about it.”  
          “But all of those people getting injured because of me!” she whispered guiltily.  
          James took her by the shoulder and looked her in the eyes.  “This is not your fault,” he assured her.  “You did not do this.  Do not take the blame for someone else’s actions.”  
          “But—”  
          “And don’t you try to cut classes until we get things sorted,” he commanded.  “Understand?”  Holly reluctantly nodded.  Skipping classes had sounded rather nice.  “Believe me,” he continued, “if you were not around, the Slytherins would find someone else to harass; it’s just the way they are.”  James released her.  “Now,” he said smiling, “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.  What say you we both get inside and have a bite to eat...”     
          “I, uh,” Holly looked inside the Great Hall; she _was_ hungry but she didn’t dare…  
          “It must be pretty difficult to have to eat in a rush late every day after everyone else,” he added gently.  “I was thinking that if you ate with the rest of us you would get full the same time as everyone else and you wouldn’t have to worry about starving or overstuffing yourself.”  
          Holly looked at him in astonishment.  “How did you…” she stopped.  Of course James would have noticed she hadn’t been eating with the rest of the students and, knowing she was an Empath, would have eventually figured out the reason why.  
          “It’s only for one meal,” he added convincingly.  
          “It wouldn’t hurt to try,” encouraged Becky.  “If it doesn’t work then we can go back to eating our meals the other way…”    
          So Holly, Becky and James entered the Great Hall for lunch.  Surprisingly, the meal did not turn out as bad as Holly expected.  As James predicted, everyone, including Holly, was hungry and got full at about the same time.  Of course, Holly felt the loud onslaught of emotions emanating from a crowd of students, but by concentrating on the food and humming when she could Holly managed to keep all the other emotions to a dull roar in the background.  
           For a short time Holly decided to risk the full impact of the emotions to see what she could sense.  She closed her eyes and stopped humming.  The emotions of the room were familiar now, just magnified.  Except…there was a new one: a strong sense of satisfaction.  Holly turned her head towards the source and opened her eyes.  She found herself looking at the Slytherin table.  Paige Crowley, Richard’s girlfriend with the long black hair, looked up and caught Holly looking their way.  She smiled at Holly.  The smile gave Holly shivers.

 

********************

          The Hufflepuffs called a quick house meeting for all First years immediately after lunch and before Herbology.  Ben and Gwen made the students go through everything in his or her pack and remove anything that did not look familiar.  Several of the students found they had small polished stones in their bags.  Roland looked at the stones with interest without touching them.   
          “Could be some sort of Jinx stone,” he pronounced after studying them.  “We can’t tell for sure if the jinx is already used up.”  Using his wand he pushed all the unfamiliar items carefully in a bag for removal.  “I’ll have Professor Lovegood come by and take a look at these after her classes.  Maybe she can tell what they are.”  
          “You’re not going to take them to her?” asked Hugh Douglass.  
          “Don’t dare,” replied Roland.  “They should be harmless enough if the Jinx is used up, but if it hasn’t, then whoever carries the bag could be in for a huge accident…”  
          The students were then instructed to leave their bags in the dorms when eating and check them daily.  Hopefully this would insure any new, possibly jinxed, items that might get slipped in among their things would be quickly identified and removed.  They were reminded to always travel in groups and keep a sharp look-out for Slytherins, especially Slytherins in secluded locations.  Then they were all sent to class before they got late.  For once everyone arrived accident free.  
          Rose came over to Holly during class while they were repotting the Octopodum Viper plant.  It was a carnivorous plant used in many anti-toxin potions.  Its many thorny vines would wrap around a living creature and squeeze.  The thorns would pierce the flesh and inject poisonous venom.  These plants were still quite young—scarce 10 centimeters tall; their thorns were tiny and their venom was not yet poisonous.  Still, the students all wore heavy gloves while repotting.  The tiny stems curled around wrists and fingers and had to be carefully peeled off so as to not damage the plants.  “James told us what was happening,” she began putting down the plant she had just finished repotting.  “We’re so sorry.  How are you doing?”  
          “O.K., I guess,” replied Holly pulling off an aggressive stem from her finger, she still felt guilty about everything but at least none of the Gryffindors had arrived with injuries and nobody seemed to be blaming her...  “They found a bunch of Jinx stones in our bags that was probably causing the accidents,” she added.  
          “Ours too,” agreed Rose, preparing a pot with dirt for her next plant.  “Of course removing the stones probably won’t stop all the accidents; no doubt the Slytherins will try something else.  We’ll all just have to watch out.”  
          Holly was pleased to note that Leila appeared in the History of Magic class without the bump or headache.  At least the Slytherin damage hadn’t been lasting.  Holly greeted Leila with a smile.  “Thanks for the warning,” she said to Leila.  “We found a whole bunch of Jinx stones in our bags.”  Holly absently scratched her legs while she talked.   
          Leila nodded in acknowledgement and then commented, “I think you all may want to pay a visit to Madam Pomfrey before you return to the dorms.  Cassandra said she saw some suspicious looking Slytherins out by the Herbology pathways.”  Leila looked pointedly down at Holly’s legs and then around the rest of the room.  Holly followed her gaze and looked too.  With a start, she realized all the Hufflepuff students were scratching their legs!  Well, that was one way to stay awake in Professor Binns class.

********************

 

          “Tasmanian Sand Flea bites!” announced Madam Pomfrey after all the Hufflepuffs had made it to the infirmary.  “Nothing a little Anti-itch lotion won’t take care of in a jiffy.  Mind you Hagrid will have to station several hairy toads along the path to eat them up fast or the whole school will be infested with them.”  
          “It’s the Slytherins that did it,” accused Holly while she rubbed in the lotion.  “Can’t we do something about them?”  
          “Oh, and what evidence do you have?”  
          “Well,” began Holly, “nothing, really, but I can feel—”  
          “Miss Wycliff,” interrupted Madam Pomfrey, “as useful as your empathic abilities are, they cannot be used as evidence.  A skilled wizard can manipulate what you feel and sense rendering it totally false.  You cannot count on your senses alone.   
          It might interest you to know,” she added putting away the lotion, “that your cousin Harry Potter once passed out during class and woke up screaming, convinced he knew something important.  When I saw him he was frantically looking for Professor McGonagall.  When he couldn’t find her he raced off and the next thing I heard Potter had left the campus.  It was a foolish thing for him to do,” she added, “especially as there was no safer place for him than Hogwarts.  Worse, he convinced his friends to go with him and they walked straight into the waiting hands of the Death Eaters.  It had all been some sort of a trick engineered by You-Know-Who.  Potter darned near got himself and everyone else killed.  I had quite a time in the infirmary that night dealing with all their injuries.”  
          “So what happened?  Why did he pass out?” asked Holly with interest.  
          “No one knows,” replied Madam Pomfrey, “leastways no one that ever said.  You-Know-Who couldn’t have cast a spell on him while he was at Hogwarts—especially not in a classroom like that.”  
          “What made him so sure?”  
          “There’s no telling,” replied Madam Pomfrey.  “But for You-Know-Who to have Potter so completely fooled when he didn’t have any kind of contact with the boy was an impressive piece of manipulation.  You just can’t trust your senses alone.”  
          “Madam Pomfrey,” asked Holly changing the subject.  “Have you heard from that other Empath about blocking?”  
          “Not yet,” she replied briskly.  “I’ll let you know when I do.  Now, your friends are waiting outside so off you go,” she said shooing Holly out the door.

 

********************

          The next day in the Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Lovegood paired the students to practice the hexes they had studied.  One student was to practice the hex and the other had to defend against it using either _Protego_ or _Expelliarmus._ Hexes, while annoying, didn’t physically hurt someone once cast.  Holly found herself paired off against Anthony Richards.   
          He smiled when they faced off.  “I’ve a really great Hex picked out for you,” he said when they faced off.  _“Furnunculus!”_  
_“Expelliarmus!” s_ houted Holly when Richards started to speak.  Richard’s wand went clattering off and hit Susan Breysburry.  Holly winced when she felt it strike her.   
          “Oops,” said Richards following the wand’s path without concern.  “Did that hurt?”  He walked over, collected his wand and returned.  “Shall we try again?”  
          “Why?” asked Holly while raising her wand.  “Why do you hate me so?”  
          “You’re a filthy Mudblood, a Muggle-born _and_ a Potter!  Mudbloods have no business at Hogwarts.  _Densaugeo!”_  
_“Protego!”_ shouted Holly, again blocking the spell, but this time the wand didn’t fly out of Richards’ hand.  
          “Potters _always_ get special treatment just because they’re Potters,” Richards added coldly.  “You’ve been getting preferred treatment from the very first day you arrived. _Wartoetagus!_ ”  
          Holly stared at Richards in amazement barely getting her shield up in time.  That which she had needed for survival, no doubt even her late arrival, had appeared like preferential treatment to Richards.  “But to go to such lengths, for so long?”  
           “You embarrassed me that first day,” he replied.  “And lost us House points.  I never forget! _Tarantallegra!_ ” he shouted.   
          But Holly was ready.  “ _Protego!_ ”  
          Richard’s spell again bounced off her shield harmlessly.  There were some advantages to being an Empath.  Holly could always tell when a spell was about to be cast.  
          Then it was time for the two to switch off.  It was Holly’s turn to cast the hexes.  The two of them raised their wands….  In previous wand work assignments the Hufflepuffs had faced off against each other.  Holly didn’t want to jinx or hex her friends at Hufflepuff even only for practice.  She had planned to use _Expelliarmus_ against her friends.  Holly didn’t realize she’d be asked to try her skills against the Slytherins and especially didn’t anticipate facing off against Richards.  Listening to Richards, Holly realized she could try to explain that the so-called special treatment had been a necessity but she could never _not_ be a Potter or Muggle born.  Trying to be nice to Richards would gain her nothing.  
_“Tarantallegra!_ ” Holly shouted.  Being an Empath meant she could also tell when the other person wasn’t ready to cast his/her spell… Unfortunately, Holly had no idea what the curse was; it had sounded good when Richards said it.   
          As she expected, her spell caught Richards off guard and hit him with full force; his legs started to wobble and fly out from under him.  He landed with a loud crash.  Holly’s legs _also_ wobbled, flew out from under her, and she fell.  Her wand went flying and her legs jerked about uncontrollably.  Holly quickly grabbed her legs, bending them at the knees and holding on tight humming loudly trying to focus all the while reminding herself that she wasn’t the one with the curse!!!  It was all she could do to not let go of her legs.  Richards had not lost grasp of his wand but he could not control leg movement with one hand so his legs flailed about every which way.  Everyone stopped what they were doing and gathered around to watch.   
          Professor Lovegood came over and studied the two.  Finally, she spoke.  Dimly Holly heard her calm words over her (Holly’s) frantic humming.  “That was a poor selection of a curse, Miss Wycliff, knowing it’s possible side effects,” Professor Lovegood began.  “That makes me think you did not know the nature of the curse you cast, which is not surprising as it was not on the list you were assigned to review.  You should never cast a curse without first knowing it’s nature,” she continued serenely.  “It might backfire:  five points from Hufflepuff.”  
          Then Professor Lovegood turned her attention to Richards.  “Well?” she asked looking at him expectantly.  He looked at her in confusion his legs flying every which way.  “You have your wand, why haven’t you performed the counter to this curse?”  
          His face reddened.  “I don’t know the counter,” he confessed, his legs still flailing around uncontrollably…   
          “I believe the assignment was to learn the spells _and_ their counters.  Both are equally important.  You may find yourself in a position where you have to _use_ a counter.  You should know the counter of every spell you use.  Had you spent your time preparing for class instead of planning student harassment you would know how to counter this spell easily:  five points from Slytherin.”  
          She looked around the ring of students.  “Who knows the counter to this spell?”  Mark raised his hand hesitantly.  It hadn’t been on the list to study, but he had done extra reading, as usual, and recognized the spell.  “Mr. Owens?  Would you please cast the counter?”   
          Mark stepped forward.  He pointed his wand at Richard’s legs and said firmly, _“Finite.”_   The spell was lifted; Richards’ legs fell still.  Holly no longer had to clutch hers but she remained on the floor and buried her head in her lap, too embarrassed to look up.  
          “Very good, Mr. Owens:  five points for Hufflepuff.  I think that is enough practice for today,” said Professor Lovegood looking around the room.  All the standing students turned quickly to leave.   
          As the room emptied, Richards got up and started to leave.  “One more thing, Mr. Richards,” said Professor Lovegood calmly.  Richards froze in place not turning to look at her.  “Your efforts at spell casting were admirable but serve only to demonstrate what you should have realized had you been more thorough in your research; it is nearly impossible to win a wizard’s duel against an Empath.  For this reason, I shall be asking Miss Wycliff to not participate further in student-against-student wand work.  I assure you this is not a special treatment accorded her because she is a Potter or because she has Muggle parents, but because it would be unfair to ask other students, such as _you,_ to practice against her.  Wouldn’t you agree?”  Richards turned very pale at her words and clenched his fists, but said nothing.  “You may go, now,” she said dismissing him.  Richards walked stiffly out the room.  
          Holly remained seated on the floor with her head tucked in her lap.  She had refused to leave with Becky and the other Hufflepuffs.  With the room now empty, she lifted her head and turned her tear-streaked face to Professor Lovegood.  “Those curses, hexes and jinxes are hateful!” she exploded.  “Giving people bat-ears, warts, long teeth, fat noses, ballooning body parts, spidery crawling hair—I couldn’t do that to my friends!  Not even in practice!  I couldn’t embarrass them like that!  I couldn’t even do it to, to, Ric—” Holly broke off and sobbed some more.  “So I tried the spell I didn’t know…”   
          Professor Lovegood squatted down next to Holly.  “You won’t have to worry about doing that to your friends any more,” she said gently while helping Holly up.  “Or your enemies.  But you still have to learn all the spells and their counters, just in case.  You will be thoroughly tested on your knowledge of them.”  Holly nodded tearfully.  “And you should never, _ever_ cast an unfamiliar spell.”  Professor Lovegood handed Holly a tissue to wipe her face and walked her to the door of the practice room.  Becky and Mark sat outside waiting for her.  Becky handed Holly’s wand back to her.  
          “There’s a book on my shelf you might find of interest,” continued Professor Lovegood conversationally.  She pointed her wand to the back wall _“Accio!”_ she said and a slender bright yellow book dotted with hot pink flowers and chartreuse green leaves floated across the room to her.  She handed the book to Holly.   
          Holly looked at it.  The title was _Hexing With Love—hexes people won’t want removed_ by Amelia Pacifica.  She opened the book and looked at the table of contents.  Subject headings included Hair—curling, straightening, lengthening, removing gray, coloring, adding highlights; Teeth—whitening, brightening, straightening, repairing; Skin—removing scars, removing warts, anti-acne, wrinkle removal; Adornment—moving tattoos, beauty spots, living hair clips—butterflies and dragonflies, flower, leaves and other plants, …  Holly closed the book carefully.   
          “Yes, I think I would like reading this book very much,” she said to Professor Lovegood.  “May I borrow it?”  Professor Lovegood nodded smiling.  “Thank you,” Holly said stowing the book in her bag.  Then the three left together for their next class.

 


	16. Chapter 16

          “Come on, Holly,” pleaded Becky.  “It’ll be O.K. It’s a beautiful spring day and you need to get out more.”  Becky knew better than to suggest that it would be “fun.”  Nothing was “fun” for Holly without Sasha.  And Sasha had to stay in the dorms.  So, outside of meals and classes, Holly stayed in the dorms too.  She still couldn’t block, and could only briefly deal with the loud press of student emotions that filled the halls.  So she avoided it all as much as possible.  
          “We haven’t seen Hagrid for ages,” Becky added.  “There’s rarely anybody around his place so you won’t have to deal with a lot of emotions.  Maybe you would be more successful practicing your blocking with fewer people around.”  Professor Lovegood kept Holly in the classroom studying, learning all sorts of spells, while the other students did wand work in the practice room.  Holly was supposed to try to block whenever an injury occurred.  So far, Holly had failed dismally but at least the other students couldn’t see her wince with pain at each injury.  Richards glowered at her constantly during class but otherwise left her alone.  
          “You know the Slytherins don’t really like Hagrid so you won’t have to worry about them hanging around bothering you either.”  The Slytherins hadn’t done much since that wizard duel with Richards.  Holly wasn’t sure why.  Maybe all their defensive efforts had worked; maybe the Professors had talked to them; maybe the Slytherins just decided she wasn’t worth the effort.  At any rate, when Holly scanned the Great Hall each morning before she started humming, she could only feel the cool distain that usually marked the presence of the Slytherins.   
          “I checked,” Becky added encouragingly, “your cousins will be coming too.”  Holly hadn’t talked much to them since she had left Sasha behind in the dorms; she hadn’t talked much to anyone outside of Hufflepuffs in the dorm.  “Please, do it for me…”   
          Holly sighed and rubbed Sasha behind the ears.  Sasha happily stretched herself out in front of Holly asking for a belly rub.  Holly absently complied.  Becky had been a good friend spending much of her time in the dorms with Holly.  Holly never asked her to stay but she had anyway.  The two had gotten quite good at Wizard Chess and Kings Corner.  Becky hadn’t complained at all though Holly knew she would have rather been outside doing other things like watching the quidditch practices and soaking up the sun.  It was time for Holly to be a good friend in return.  “O.K.,” Holly said reluctantly.  “I’ll go, but only for a while.”  She stood up and followed Becky out the room.  
          “She’s coming!” Becky said happily to Mark.  Mark had been in the common room waiting for a response.  He grinned when he heard the news.  The two hustled Holly out of the dorms before she had a chance to change her mind.  They made their way down the stairs.  The halls were empty.  First year Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors had Thursday afternoons off but the other students were still in class or in the library studying; their emotions were too remote to bother Holly.   
          The sun shone brightly outside.  The castle walls were lined with newly sprouted white and pink coral-bells.  Sprinkled between were blazing red and yellow fire-bells.  When the wind blew, all the flower bells swayed back and forth making gentle harmonies.  Miniature snapdragons of all colors lay hidden and still in the large lawn.  They flashed and twinkled like colorful stars when quickly snapping at any flying insect and then hid again beneath the green of other grasses awaiting the arrival of their next meal.  
          Mossy shy plants with maroon and silver leaves carpeted the pathway towards Herbology.  So sensitive, the plants could tell when a foot was about to land on top of them; they would curl up and shrink allowing the foot to land on bare stone only to stretch out their tiny branches and leaves totally covering the stone after the foot lifted.  The shy plants undulated back and forth over the path like ocean waves while the three walked.  
          The students walked carefully over the dirt path near the greenhouse; the hairy toads now living there blended in well with the sandy color of the dirt.  They were so numerous they were hard to avoid.  But no one wanted to squash a hairy toad, even by accident.  Mark accidentally stepped on one once.  It exploded under his foot like a popping balloon releasing a cloud of yellow green gas that smelled like rotting fish and cheese.  The cloud hovered above Mark’s foot clinging to his leg like a magnet.  It took over an hour for the cloud to dissipate.  Meanwhile, flies loved the smell of the cloud so much they swarmed around Mark and hairy toads hopped after him to get the flies…  
          On either side of the dirt path were two neat rows of bright yellow flytraps and a series of blue starflowers in between.  They tried to catch the flies and fleas the hairy toads missed.  The starflowers opened their petals wide emitting a perfume that smelled like rotting meat to attract the insects.  Each flytrap opened wide showing their scarlet interiors to the sky awaiting the next bug.  The flytrap plants were only about 30 centimeters tall.  The yellow traps with their spiky teeth swayed in the wind and nibbled at ankles that got to close to the edge of the path.  Mark said he’d read they would grow as large as two feet and could get quite annoying by snapping at anyone who passed by.  
          Despite the toads and traps, the sand fleas remained.  It would take the winter freezes to totally get rid of them.  At least they hadn’t spread.  It wasn’t unusual for people to each get one or two bug bites as they passed.  The bites were no big deal now as everyone, even the Slytherins, carried a jar of anti-itch potion when they went to Herbology.  
          A huge clump of ornamental blue-green grass marked the turn-off to Hagrid’s hut.  It was over six feet tall with even taller frilly sky blue flowers that swayed gently in the wind.  
          “Don’t let it touch you.” cautioned Becky as they rounded the corner.  
          “Why not?” asked Holly, curiously giving the plant a wide berth.  The clump of grass hadn’t been there her last visit.   
          “That’s tickle grass,” explained Becky.  “Rose warned me about it when I asked her about this visit.  She said Professor Longbottom planted it to put students in a better mood when they attended the Care of Magical Creatures class.  It releases a blue pollen when the wind blows that makes everyone near it feel all giggly.”  
          “What’s wrong with that?” wondered Holly aloud as they continued walking.  
          “Well, Rose apparently got too close to it and the grass blades reached out and grabbed her!  It pulled her into the plant and started shaking pollen all over her.  Rose was laughing so hard that she couldn’t stop.  Albus and his friend, Taylor O’Donnell, had to pull her out of the plant.  By the time Rose got out, she was totally blue with pollen and so weak from laughter (and still laughing) they had to carry her to the infirmary to get the pollen washed off.  
          Holly sighed.  Even the nice plants weren’t all that nice around here.  Strangely enough, the thought made her want to laugh… probably the effect of all the pollen in the air. 

 

********************

          Hagrid was indeed happy to see them and welcomed the trio when they appeared.  Fang gave a running charge and literally knocked Holly over enthusiastically giving her face a thorough drenching by tongue for a greeting.  Holly laughed as she wiped her face off.  He was certainly a very happy dog.  Hmmm, happy cat, happy dog, could work…  Holly closed her eyes and reached out with her senses.  Yes, she could feel a certain contentment around Fang.  Holly relaxed and let his happiness surround her.  Not as good as Sasha, but Holly found muted emotions of any form a welcome relief outside of the dorms.  She did tire of humming all the time.  
          Albus and Rose had already arrived; Hagrid invited them all inside for tea.  The five squished into the chairs.  Holly kept Fang nearby continuously scratching his ears.  Hagrid already had the table cleared and the water on the fire.  Soon, he filled five mugs of steaming hot brew and had passed out a biscuit to each.  All five biscuits quickly vanished beneath the folds of their robes for later use in Potions.  
          “I like your new hair style, Becky,” commented Rose while she sipped some tea.  “It looks really good.”  
          Becky flushed with pleasure at the compliment.  “Thanks,” she said smiling.  “Holly helped with it.”  While closeted up in the dorms, Holly had been practicing spells from the book Professor Lovegood loaned her.  Some of the spells, such as longer eyelashes (which grew so long they drooped over Marcy’s nose) and stronger fingernails, (which thickened and hardened to claw-like consistency) had to be undone almost immediately.  But others became quite popular.  Several of the Hufflepuff students had received anti-acne hexes.  Susan had some of her freckles hexed to match her skin color so they wouldn’t show.  Then Holly had fixed up some tiger moth hairclips for her.  And Becky, well this week Holly had hexed a gentle curl into her usually straight brown hair and added some gold and auburn highlights.  They had brushed the hair out and pinned it back behind each ear using fragrant fresh plumeria flower clips.  The anti-tangle hex kept the hair reasonably neat despite the breeze outdoors.  
          Hagrid pulled out a pile of brochures and asked the students to look them over.  They seemed to describe animal preserves.  “Tell me which one ya like the bes’,” he asked them.  
          “Why?” inquired Rose.   
          “Headmistress McGonagall tol’ me I’d have ta find a new home for Cuddles.”  
          “Really?” exclaimed Mark.  “How come?”   
          “She says he’s gotten too big ta keep on the school grounds,” lamented Hagrid.  “He’s only a few centimeters over four meters long but she thinks that anythin’ over four meters is too much.”  
          “That’s too bad,” said Albus solemnly.  “How long is he now, anyway?”  
          “Four meters, ninety-eight centimeters long,” said Hagrid proudly.  “He’s a fine looking lizard if I say so myself.”  
          “You don’t seem too upset about this,” observed Holly quietly.  Fang had moved up closer so she could rub his neck and chest.   
          Hagrid sighed.  “Ta tell ya th’ truth, Cuddles hasn’t been looking too happy lately.  I think he’s lonely.  I bin lookin’ fer a lady friend fer him but no one seems to have one they can send up this way.”  He pulled out one of the brochures and laid it on top of the rest for the group to examine.  “What do ya think of this Thermal Springs Iceland Preserve?  It’s pretty close by an’ I could visit him whenever I want.”  
          “Well,” commented Mark, “it looks warm and cozy but it doesn’t look like they have any lady friends there for him.  I don’t think it’s a regular place where lizards like to hang out.”  
          “I like this Anak Krakatoa Preserve,” said Holly. “ It’s at a nice warm climate and the brochure says it’s a deserted island.  Cuddles could spit to his heart’s content without bothering anyone.”  
          “But it says here they have fire lizards living there,” commented Rose while watching the moving images of the island on the brochure,  “Do you think fire lizards and spitting lizards will get along?”  No one knew.  They shuffled through the rest of the brochures looking at each one.   
          “I think your best bet is this Jungle Preserve in Central Africa,” concluded Mark setting that brochure on the top of the pile.  “It has a nice warm climate and lots of area to roam.”  
          “Oh,” said Becky excitedly as she watched the moving overview of the preserve.  “Isn’t that a spitting lizard in the shadows?”  They rewound the overview stopping it at the right point and studied the animal carefully.   
          “Yes, it is definitely a spitting lizard,” concluded Hagrid excitedly.  “Tha’s just the place ta send him!  Wait ‘til I tell Cuddles!”  
          “Albus, why were you late to class today?” asked Holly while Hagrid put the brochures away.  
          “It was nothing much,” answered Albus.   
          Holly stared at Albus with her green eyes.  “It was more than that,” she disagreed.  “What happened?” she asked insisting on a more specific answer.   
          He looked down.  “I can’t keep anything from you, can I?” he said finally.   
          “Not much,” agreed Holly rubbing the fur under Fang’s ears.  Fang sighed in contentment.  “What happened?”  
          “Well, Malfoy and Richards were lying in wait for us along the way to class and tried to cast some spells; but we were faster.  Taylor used _petrificus totalus_ on Tony, you should have seen him fall, and I did a bat bogey hex on Scorpius; it looked real good on him too!  That’s all,” he concluded.  
          “I’m so sorry,” began Holly.  “They probably wouldn’t have tried anything if it weren’t for me.”  
          “Don’t be silly,” exclaimed Albus.  “They weren’t picking on me because of you.  I’m a Potter, remember?  That's enough reason for them.  It was nothing, really.”  
          “Except you got caught,” reminded Rose accusingly.  
          “Well, so did they!” retorted Albus defensively.  
          “Oh, no!” breathed Becky.  “What happened?”  
          “They all got detention, of course,” said Rose.   
          “But only for one day,” added Albus.  “We’ll be with Mrs. Figg, the caretaker, tonight.  She was dad’s next door neighbor a long time ago; she likes dad.  It shouldn’t be too bad.”  
          “That’s what we thought about detention with Professor Longbottom,” said Rose darkly.  
          “Hallo!  Anybody here?”  James had arrived from his classes.  He knocked on the door and came on in without waiting for an invitation.  “Hello there,” he greeted everyone,  “Hi Hagrid,” he said cheerfully.  
          “Pull up a chair, James,” greeted Hagrid while getting out another mug.  “Want some tea?”   
          “Sure,” replied James dragging an old trunk to the table and sitting on it.  “Hey, Holly,” he added, “it’s good to see you out and about.”  Holly nodded and petted Fang some more.  “So Hagrid,” began James, “settle on a place for Cuddles yet?  Hagrid told me about Cuddles during class,” he explained to the others.  
          “Yep,” replied Hagrid happily as he handed James his tea and a lumpy biscuit.  James took the mug and the biscuit.  When Hagrid wasn’t looking James handed the biscuit over to Rose who quickly tucked it away.  “Got me a nice place all picked out fer him.  Th’ others helped me select it.”  He pulled out the brochure and handed it to James.  “Check it out!”  
          “I thought you were leaning towards the Thermal Springs,” said James as he reviewed the brochure.  
          “He was,” confirmed Becky, “but then we saw the spitting lizard in the pictures of this place and we thought he’d be happier there.”  She pointed out the lizard in the brochure.   
          James nodded approvingly.  “Looks like a good choice,” he said. Then he turned to Albus, “So what’s this I hear about you getting detention?” he asked conversationally.  
          Albus flushed.  “Sheesh,” he said, “you can’t keep anything a secret around here!”   
          “Apparently not,” agreed James affably while taking a sip of tea from the mug, “especially when you do it right in front of Mrs. Figg.  I ran into Mrs. Figg on the way over here and she told me all about it.  You really need to be more observant as to who is around sunning themselves on the grounds when you cast your spells.”  
          “Well, they deserved it!” said Albus defensively.  
          “That’s what Mrs. Figg said,” agreed James.  “But you still broke the rules.  She said you and Taylor will be with her tonight cleaning up the trophy room; it hasn’t been touched in years.  You got off lucky.”  James put down his mug on the table.  “Mrs. Figg said that Professor Slughorn will handle the detention for Richards and Malfoy.  She said Professor Slughorn mentioned something about the girls’ bathroom needing to be fixed up.”   
          James looked around the room at the group.  “I can’t imagine what happened to the Slytherin girls’ bathroom that would require a detention to repair.  Do any of you know?”  Holly looked down quickly so James couldn’t see her face.  Mark choked on his tea and put the mug down quickly.  Becky coughed and started turning red.  
          “Um,” began Holly, still looking intently at her mug, “Moaning Myrtle kind of got mad at them one day.”  
          “Oh,” said James.  “That would explain things.”  
          “Speaking of bathrooms,” spoke up Rose changing the subject, “Is it true you fixed up Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.  I overheard a couple of Slytherin girls laughing about how you had to do it for in-class detention.”  
          “Well, yeah, I did fix the bathroom,” replied Holly, “but it wasn’t really a detention,” she explained.  “I just couldn’t do the regular work assigned at the time.”  
          “Well, the _Out of Order_ sign is still up,” continued Rose conversationally, “but I took a quick peek inside to see how you had done.  The interior is spectacular; you’d never know it was out of order!  You did a marvelous job picking up, repairing and cleaning!”  
          “Uh, thanks,” mumbled Holly, not looking at Rose.  
          “I especially like the tiles you found to replace the damaged ones,” added Rose innocently.  They go so well with the rest of the décor.  However did you find them?”  
          “Well, um, Myrtle helped,” replied Holly uncomfortably looking down at her mug.   
          “I’m not surprised,” replied Rose cheerfully.  “Something tells me that Tony and Scorpius will have a harder time than they expect trying to repair that bathroom.”  Holly quickly gulped down some more tea without responding.  
          James noted the exchange with interest.  Mark, Becky and Holly were staring intently into their mugs trying to look interested in their tea, a hint of red creeping up their necks.  Rose had a twinkle in her eyes and looked about ready to burst; Albus looked thoroughly confused.  
          “I think I need to pay a visit to Myrtle’s bathroom one of these days,” he said thoughtfully after watching the group.”  
          “Are you kidding?” exclaimed Albus.  “That’s a _girls’_ bathroom!  You can’t go in there!”  
          James laughed.  “But how else will you know how the other half lives?  Hey, Hagrid,” he said quickly, changing the subject before Albus could inquire further.  “Do you think it would be O.K. if we paid Cuddles a visit before you have to send him off?”  
          Hagrid pulled out a huge dirty rag and blew his nose.  “Tha’s a great idea,” he said.  I think he’d be pleased ta see you all.”  So everyone put up their mugs and went outside.  Hagrid led the way.

 

********************

          James hung back and walked with Holly, who was still petting Fang.  Fang soaked up the extra attention like a sponge never leaving Holly’s side.  James watched the two together.  “That’s kind of cheating, you know,” he commented quietly to Holly as they walked.   
          Holly sighed and removed her hand from Fang.  Fang gave her a disappointed look and then loped off to join the rest of the group.  The loud mix of emotions, though friendly, immediately grew stronger and pressed in around her.  Holly began humming under her breath.  “I just can’t seem to block,” she complained to James.  
          Holly had been called into the infirmary the previous week.  Madam Pomfrey had gotten a response from that other Empath concerning how to block.  The Empath’s explanation was brief and it hadn’t helped Holly much.  She had written saying:

 _**The other emotions and feelings you sense are like other personalities trying to** _  
_**take over.  You must be very secure in who you are –exert your own personality** _  
_**and use it to block out the emotions of others.** _

_**Good luck, I know you can do it.**_

          Holly knew who she was but she could tell it best with Sasha.  Knowing it sure hadn’t helped block any emotions.  
          “You’ll get it one of these days,” replied James encouragingly.  “It just takes time.  Think of all the things you couldn’t do before you came to Hogwarts and how much you’ve learned already.”  He glanced ahead.  “Look, Hagrid’s built an observation post.”  
          Holly looked up.  At the edge of Cuddles’ pen, Hagrid had placed a rickety looking ladder tied with rope that led to a platform that was level with the top of the wall.  Mark and Albus had already scrambled up it.  James and Holly reached the wall just as Rose finished going up the ladder.  James gave Holly a boost up and then followed her up the ladder.  Hagrid tossed a huge chunk of unidentifiable meat into the center of the pen and then joined them up on top of the platform.  He sat down in a huge chair placed there and pulled out a flute.  
          “I can’t take him fer walks any more,” lamented Hagrid, “but he likes it when I play sum music fer him.”  He began to play his flute for Cuddles.  The gentle rippling notes contrasted starkly with the huge creature below.  
          “Man, he’s big!” said Holly, who hadn’t seen him since detention.  
          Cuddles had a long body that was thicker than a huge tree trunk.  It was dark emerald green in color with a bright orange and red belly.  When Cuddles moved, it looked as if he were on fire with flickering orange and red flames beneath the green.  His tail swung menacingly back and forth like a huge green club with every step.  Cuddles moved a lot, circling the enclosure pausing briefly at the huge smoking fires only to pace some more.  He stopped frequently to spit.  The walls were covered with lizard spit, but they held firm.  Then Cuddles would pace some more.  
          “Yup,” said Hagrid proudly putting away his flute.  “I sure will be sorry to see him go.”  
          “What will you do then?” asked Mark.  
          “Well,” speculated Hagrid, “you all made such a nice pen, it seems a shame to waste it.  I wus thinkin’o’ diggin’ it out sum more and fillin’ it all up with water.  Maybe I could try my hand at raising sharks or barracudas.”  
          “How about some lions or bears?” suggested Becky hopefully.  
          “Naw,” said Hagrid thoughtfully, “too tame.  Maybe I could find a kraken to raise…”

 

********************

         Holly walked back to the dorms with Becky and Mark.  She had just finished dinner with them.  It hadn’t been such a bad afternoon visiting Hagrid, getting out and about.  Maybe she would try it again some time…  but not any time soon.  Constantly dealing with emotions was exhausting.  She looked forward to some peace and quiet with Sasha.   
          The three reached the portrait guarding their dorms.  The gruff Judge looked angrily out at them.  “Password,” he demanded fiercely.  The trio looked at each other.  Who would speak first?  
          “Um, I know,” said Holly, “What gets wetter the more it dries?”   
          “What?” said the Judge impatiently.  
          “A towel!” replied Holly cheerfully.  The Judge looked like he was about to explode.  
          “Good one,” approved Mark.  And all three of them laughed along with the Judge as he opened the door.  
          Later, Holly sat in the common room with Sasha on her lap.  The huge fire in the fireplace burned cheerfully heating the room.  She reviewed her notes for the next day while stroking Sasha.  When she had finished, she got ready for bed.  It was still early, but it had been a long, trying day and she felt very tired.  Holly put on her nightgown, put her wand in the drawer in the nearby end table, got into bed and pulled up her blanket.  It may be Spring during the day but it was still cold at night.  Sasha curled up next to her purring loudly.  Soon Holly was fast asleep.

 

********************

          Meanwhile, Albus and Taylor reported for detention.  Mrs. Figg was waiting for them with her five cats in the entryway.  Her gray hair was tucked neatly in a hairnet.  She wore a comfortable looking blue and pink plaid house robe and purple striped carpet slippers.  She led the two boys to the trophy room.  There was an assortment of cleaning supplies waiting for them.  
          “No wands will be necessary for tonight,” she announced.  “Use elbow grease only.”  She set them to work cleaning.  There were several crystal display cases in the room.  Each was filled with all sorts of cups, shields, plates and statues.  Each case had to be cleaned—inside and out.  All the items within had to be cleaned or dusted and/or polished.   
          “And when you finish with that,” she announced, “you need to take care of the walls.  Sweep them good and get all the dust and cobwebs off.”  The two boys sighed.  It looked like a lot of work.  They still had astronomy to attend at midnight.  Mrs. Figg warned them her detention was the job, not the hours.  They would have to return the next night to finish if necessary and they didn’t want to do that.  
          Taylor opened the first display case and Albus started removing the items within…  the gold ones only needed a light dusting.  The silver needed polishing.  After a while, Mrs. Figg left to make her rounds, but two of her cats, Snowball and Poopsey, remained to watch them work.   
          Poopsey, a tortoise shell cat with yellow eyes, would let out a screeching yowl whenever she noted a streak or an uncleaned spot in the boys’ work.  Albus quickly learned to show Poopsey everything he had polished and thought finished before returning it to the case.  It saved his ears and kept him from having to pull a trophy or a plate that didn’t pass “cat muster” out again.   
          Snowball was an all white long-haired cat with deep blue eyes.  She paced in and about inspecting their efforts shedding long strands of white hair everywhere.  Taylor, who was dusting and cleaning out the cases, complained that Snowball made more work for both of them.  When Taylor finished with the cases, he helped Albus clean and polish the trophies.  
          Finally, all that remained were the walls.  They each grabbed a broom, took a side and started sweeping.  
          “Hey!” said Taylor stopping his work and looking closer at the wall.  “Isn’t your mum’s name Ginny?” he asked Albus.  
          “Yes,” replied Albus stopping what he was doing to look at Taylor.  “Why?”  
          “I think there’s a plaque in the wall with her name on it.”  He put down the broom and fetched a rag.  “Ginny Weasley, right?” he asked scrubbing something on the wall.  
          “Right,” agreed Albus moving closer to look for himself.   
          “You didn’t tell me she had an award in here.”  
          “I didn’t know.”  Albus looked up at the wall where Taylor was working.  There was a small heart shaped plaque set into the wall—silver, by the look of it and very dirty.  He could hardly see the letters inscribed in it but that did look like the words “Ginny Weasely” written on the top line…  
          Taylor continued cleaning away.  “Look!” he exclaimed, that’s your dad’s name on it too.  I didn’t know there were any plaques in here with your dad’s name.”  
          “Me neither,” agreed Albus curiously.  “What’s the rest of it say?”  He squished in for a closer look but Taylor shoved him aside.  
          “Hold on there,” Taylor said.  “Let me get it finished.”  Albus stepped aside and let Taylor finish working.  “There,” said Taylor after a few minutes of hard cleaning, “all done.”  He had the heart shaped plaque polished to a mirror-like consistency.  It gleamed and sparkled in the candlelight.  The lines of the writing had been scratched in with something thin and could not easily be read.  Taylor, being taller than Albus, read the inscription aloud.  “It says,”

 

 

**_Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter_ **  
**_and Tom Riddle;_ **  
_**Now and Forever** _

          “Who is Tom Riddle?” Taylor asked Albus.  
          “I don’t know…” replied Albus thoroughly puzzled.  “I’ve never heard of him before.  Let me look.”  Taylor moved back for Albus.  Albus had to stand on his toes to get a closer look at the plaque and its writing.  He could see his green eyes reflected on the highly polished surface.  They seemed to glow weirdly back at him.  He reached out with a finger and touched the reflective surface.  Albus’ whole body began to fade growing more and more transparent with every second... Then he vanished completely.

 

********************

          Holly dreamed she was standing knee deep in a snowdrift.  Snow was everywhere—no houses, no trees, nothing but snow, as far as the eye could see.  The sky was a solid gray.  Huge flakes of snow fell around her.  Everything was still and quiet and cold.  She was all alone in the snow and very cold.  Holly pulled a cloak around her for warmth but it was an invisible cloak; she not only couldn’t see it, she couldn’t feel it!  She was so cold.  
          Suddenly, Holly started sliding!  Down she went in the cold snow landing with a heavy clatter and a thunk!  That woke Holly up.  She found herself lying on the floor, a very cold floor.  How had that happened?  Shivering, Holly felt around in the dark trying to figure things out.  It felt as if her bed had broken!  At least it was no longer level and tipped back and forth when she touched it.  Sasha!  Was Sasha all right after the fall?  Holly couldn’t feel Sasha anywhere—not with her hands or her mind!   
          _“I need some light—that would help,”_ thought Holly trying to suppress the surge of panic she was feeling.  _“Maybe Sasha was somewhere injured!”_ Holly reached about feeling for her wand, feeling for the end table that held the wand.  She couldn’t find it!  Holly stumbled all around her bed feeling in the dark hunting for the table but it didn’t seem to be there; her wand wasn’t there!  
          A faint rustling, scratching sound broke the stillness.  What was it?   
          “Hello?”  Holly called out uncertainly.  “I can’t see.  Is anyone there?”  Only silence answered her calls.  Holly took an uncertain step forward away from her bed and towards where the sound had come.  She stretched out her hands to feel for unseen objects.  Holly took another step...  Something was on the floor; she tripped and fell.  Holly lay where she had fallen and curled herself up into a tight ball.  She felt cold, ever so cold and very, very scared.  It was dark all around her, but all the darkness in the world couldn’t hide what Holly already knew with her senses:  wherever she was, she was very much alone!

 


	17. Chapter 17

          Slowly the dark of night gave way to the dusky grays of early morning.  Holly uncurled herself and looked around.  Her tears had all dried; they’d done her no good and she couldn’t stay on the floor forever.   
          Cracks in the wall allowed light to show through and the cold to flow in.  Now that she could see, it was definitely the Hufflepuff dorm room.  Holly recognized the walls and the familiar shape of the room.  But she was dismayed by what she saw.  There were three beds in the room, at least three objects that were recognizable as having been beds.  One, the one Holly had fallen out of, had a broken leg and tipped crazily to one side.  The other two looked bent and broken, unusable.  Holly saw lots of furniture pieces about—legs, tabletops, frames, headboards, one of which she had tripped on.  The contents of the room looked old, barren, abandoned.  What had happened?  
          Holly made her way carefully down the stairs to the common room.  Many of the steps were missing or gone.  The rest seemed old and rotted, barely able to take her weight.  The polished wood rail, broken and cracked in many places, fell over at her touch.  The common room brick walls had cracks showing light from outside.  Huge shards of glass had fallen out of the windows; other splintered pieces dangled from broken frames.  Several huge segments of the wall looked black and burnt.  There was a huge black gaping hole where the fireplace had been.  Black scorch marks made horrid stripes on the floor.  The floor was littered with broken furniture, trash and all sorts of junk.  
          Holly surveyed the damage and felt tears rise anew.  Her Hufflepuff friends must be all dead; they would have never let this happen to their home at Hogwarts.  
          Slowly Holly explored every room in the Hufflepuff dorm looking for clues as to what happened.  She found no answers, only evidence of great destruction.  Every once in a while she heard a soft squeak or a scraping sound as rats or mice scurried away when she drew too near.  
          In the boys’ side, Holly saw what looked to be a black rag lying stretched out on the floor.  Upon closer examination, she could tell it was a very dirty old school robe filled with holes.  She bent down and picked it up.  There was a loud rattling sound as several small white bones fell out of the robe to the floor.  Holly shuttered and tried not to think of their source.  She shook the robe thoroughly and put it on.  She was very cold and the robe helped.   
         That gave her an idea.  Holly scoured the rooms again, this time looking for articles of clothing.  She found a dusty moth-eaten House sweater, some ratty (literally—they were being used by a rat for a nest) old jeans and a pair of black tights.  The sweater magically cleaned and repaired itself when she shook it out and the tights rewove most of their runs and holes when she put them on.  The jeans, well at least they shrunk to fit…  Most of the jeans were covered by the robe anyway.   
          Holly felt a bit better with some proper clothing on—at least warmer.  It made her feel more prepared for what she had to do next.  She had been wrong earlier about being alone.  Lying in the dark Holly had come to realize that there _were_ other people at Hogwarts.  It’s just that they were so far away they were well out of her usual empathic range.  Her panic, fear and desperation had made Holly seek further than ever before, and she had found others—just the faintest hint.  She just didn’t know who or what she had found…

 

********************

          Picking her way carefully through the broken glass Holly ventured a look out the window.  Below she could see the familiar Hogwarts grounds but it was missing the pretty colored coral-bells and fire bells she had seen yesterday.  The pathway bricks still looked to be covered with mossy shy plants but now, along each side, was a row of what looked to be tall spiny cacti.  
          Two black-cloaked figures, their faces completely hidden by hoods, floated gently back and forth around the yard as if they were patrolling.  Holly had never seen anything like that at Hogwarts.  But they looked vaguely familiar and very scary.  Suddenly she realized what they were:  dementors!  She’d read about them in class.  They were supposed to be only at Azkaban Prison.  What were they doing here?  Holly shivered.  Yes, somebody was still here, those things were there; somebody still tended the yards.  Maybe somebody would have some answers.  Holly heard and felt the low rumble of her stomach.  Maybe she could even find some food…

********************

          Holly walked down the stone stairs to the Hufflepuff entry.  The familiar picture frame dangled down hanging from one end leaving the dorm open and unprotected.  Holly stepped out into the hall.  Some tattered shreds of painted canvas and a huge blackened hole was all that remained of their guardian.  Holly mourned the loss of the gruff Judge and his angry jury.  
          Cautiously Holly stepped down the hallway.  The plush blue carpets were gone.  Scorch marks covered the walls.  The hall looked deserted and unused.  As she drew closer to the great stairway Holly slowed to a stop.  What would she find?  
          Peering outward behind the entrance, Holly saw the great steps moving.  They were empty.  She walked forward and got on them.  The stairs were something familiar.  Holly walked down the stairs.  When she reached the bottom, Holly stepped cautiously through the door and looked around.  She still couldn’t see anyone but the emotions of the other people were stronger now.  The other people were in the Great Hall eating.  She could tell they were students.  No one was near; Holly crept closer and hid behind a column.  She didn’t want to be seen until she knew a bit more.  
          Holly closed her eyes and reached out with her mind.  What emotions did she feel?  Confidence, satisfaction, arrogance, overwhelming arrogance!  Holly’s eyes flew open—Slytherins!!!  They were _all_ Slytherins!!!  Where were the rest of the students?  Holly backed up quickly.  She would not have hesitated to come forward and asked for help from a student of any other house—but Slytherin?  They would never believe Holly and probably take pleasure in her misery.  Where could she go?  Where could she hide until she found someone else?   
          In a panic, Holly turned to flee and froze.  In front of her was a very large snake!  It was as long as Cuddles but thinner.  The snake had an emerald green back with a long body that curved from one side to the other filling the hallway.  It had lifted its head and front off the ground swaying side to side gently while looking at Holly straight in the eyes.  Its thick belly scales were shiny yellow; its golden yellow eyes regarded her unblinkingly.  The huge forked tongue flicked back and forth silently, menacingly.  While still watching her, the snake somehow slithered closer.  In terror, Holly backed up.  
          “Hey!  What are you doing outside before hours?”  
          Forgetting the snake, Holly swung around.  It was a voice she recognized!  A tall robed form, wand in hand, strode up to her.  “Richards!” she said in relief.  Someone she knew!  
         “That’s Prefect, _sir_ , to you!” he said to her angrily and struck Holly’s face with his free hand.  The blow was so strong it knocked Holly to the ground.  “You know better than to call me by name!  Show respect!”  Richards backed up a step and looked her over.  “Now, get up and answer my question,” he commanded.  
          Holly had a hard time getting up.  The strength of Richard’s anger was overwhelming.  Holly managed to get to her feet.  Her jaw hurt terribly.  “Yes, sir, Prefect, sir, sorry sir,” she mumbled keeping her head down.  Her words had an instant effect on Richards; his mood lightened and she could breathe again.  She longed to rub her jaw, but was too scared.  
          “That’s better,” he said.  “Now, answer my question.  What are you doing out before hours?”  
          “I, uh, got hungry, sir,” answered Holly truthfully.  
          “That’s not good enough,” Richards told her.  “You’re not supposed to be out before hours no matter what!  You should know that by now.”  
          “Ss-sorry, sir,” Holly mumbled still keeping her head down.  His words were confusing her.  Before hours?  What did that mean?  Holly longed to ask him some questions but didn’t dare.  
          Richards moved his wand to a point directly under her chin.  “Look at me,” he commanded.  Fearfully, Holly looked up.  The wand followed her chin’s progress up.  Richards studied her face intently.  “You don’t look familiar to me,” he stated suspiciously.  “What’s your name?”  
          “H-Holly, sir,”  
          “State your full name and pedigree,” Richards commanded.   
          “Holly Ann Wycliff, sir,” she replied holding his gaze.  
          “What kind of a name is that?  What’s your pedigree?” Richards insisted pushing his wand uncomfortably against Holly's throat.  
          “I, uh, don’t know what you mean by that,” confessed Holly trembling, “I’m a First year.”   
          That answer did not satisfy him.  Richards pushed his wand in deeper almost choking Holly.  “State your Wizard family line,” he commanded.  Richard’s emotions were confusing.  Holly knew him, yet it was plain he did not know her.  He should have known her.  Why didn’t he?  Richards twisted the wand into Holly's throat even further causing her to gag.  “Now!” he insisted.   
          Holly thought desperately.  Her parents weren’t wizards.  She had no wizard family line, not really.  “Po—Potter?” she answered hopefully.  
          Richards grew angry again.  He removed his wand from her throat and grabbed her wrist.  “Now I know you’re lying,” he muttered dragging her along with him.  “There _are_ no Potters!  We’ll settle this soon enough.”  
          “But, he’s my cousin,” Holly protested as she struggled to keep up with Richards and not fall.   
          Richards stopped briefly which allowed Holly to regain her footing.  He looked at her coldly.  “There is no Potter name on the Wizard Registry,” he stated flatly.  “If you think to hide behind a phony name you are sorely mistaken.  It won’t work.  Your lies will protect no one!  I will find out your real name and then your family will be sorry you gave me such problems.”  
          Richards turned and started walking again dragging Holly along.  “Stupid Nons,” he muttered to himself, “still think they’re better, still think they can outwit us—and you Firsts are always the worst!  Idealists!  You’d think you’d have learned by now!”  He reached the stairs and yanked Holly up with him.  Her wrist hurt where Richards gripped it and Holly had trouble trying to keep from stumbling and falling.   
          _“Nons?”_ thought Holly to herself as they went swiftly up the stairs.  _“What was a "Non?”_  
          Richard continued his mutterings.  “The only stupider thing you could have said,” he added impatiently as they continued up, “was to try and convince me you had _Muggle_ parents!”  
          “But I do!” blurted Holly without thinking.   
          Richards wheeled around again twisting Holly’s arm painfully in the process.  “Lying again!” he announced with certainty.  His anger and disgust filled Holly.  “You would not be at this school if you were a filthy little Mudblood!  You and your Muggle family would be rotting away in Azkaban Prison where you’d belong!”  
          Holly trembled.  Richards’ anger went through her but his words frightened her more.  She was in a lot of trouble, even more than Richards knew.  “Please,” she said shaking visibly, “you’re hurting me!”  
          Without another word, Richards untwisted her arm but retained his grip.  “I hate liars!” he announced darkly as he dragged Holly off the steps.  They raced down the hall turning several corners before Richards stopped, abruptly releasing Holly.  She fell to the ground at the foot of another Slytherin student.    
          “Look what I found wandering in the Halls,” Richards announced angrily to the student.  Holly didn’t dare look up.  “You’re supposed to be on guard duty,” he continued.  “There shouldn’t be any Nons out in the halls before hours.  Did you fall asleep and let one slip by?”  
          “I swear, I didn’t,” replied the other student defensively.  Holly recognized that voice!  She ventured a quick glance up.  It was Scorpius Malfoy!  “I’ve been awake and on duty all night just as I was assigned,” Malfoy continued.  “No one got by me, I swear!”  
          “Then how did this one get out!” demanded Richards pointing at Holly.  “You’re lying too!" Richards accused.  "You need to be taught a lesson!”  Holly could feel the anger building in Richards.  _“Crucio!”_  
          Holly screamed!  Never had she felt such pain.  Hot needles of fire pierced through every nerve in her body twisting like knives every which way!  Her head felt ready to burst!  It wouldn’t stop!  She couldn’t make it stop!  She could only scream!  
          Then the pain stopped.  Too weak to move, Holly lay limply on the floor panting.  Scorpius lay on the floor next to her panting heavily, also too weak to move.  Richards stood over them, no longer angry, but puzzled.   
          _“That was the Cruciatus curse!”_ thought Holly in shock her mind racing frantically.  She had read about it in the Defense against the Dark Arts class, Professor Lovegood had given her lots of books about spells and curses to read.  There was no counter to the _Cruciatus_ curse; it was one of the unforgivable curses that could send a person to Azakaban prison yet Richards was using it casually as a simple form of discipline.  What had happened?  What was going on?   
          A loud bell rang.  The doors next to them swung open.  Holly could hear the footsteps of people passing nearby, could feel their emotions and hunger as they passed.  She forced her head up to look.  Students!  Lots of them!  All on their way to breakfast.  Holly suddenly realized these students _weren’t_ Slytherins!  She needed no explanation of the word "Nons" now.  Non-Slytherin.  Holly tried to look at the faces of the students as they came into view.  Did she recognize anyone?  It was hard to tell.  The students kept their heads down as they walked.  None of them spoke a word.  They just silently passed by.  Only a few glanced curiously towards Holly and Scorpius lying on the floor before moving on.  
          With a start, Holly suddenly recognized where in Hogwarts Richards had brought her; they were outside the doors of Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom!  But how could that be?  There wasn’t enough space in Myrtle’s bathroom for this many people.  Where had they all come from?  The last of the students passed silently by and walked down the hall turning the corner.  The bathroom doors swung shut.  The three were again alone in the hall.  
          “One hundred three,” announced Scorpius getting slowly to his feet.  “I counted and I know you did too.  That’s the number there’s supposed to be.  I _didn’t_ let anyone slip out.”  
          Richards’ face reflected the puzzlement he felt.  “Well, then, who is she?”  Using his foot he pushed Holly onto her back.  He squatted down and studied her more closely.  “Where is your wand?” he asked looking at her with suspicion.  
          “I don’t have it,” Holly said in a small voice.  “I don’t know where it is.”   
          “A likely story,” Richards snorted in disbelief.  “Did you ever have one?  Are you some sort of an infiltrator?”   
          “Look at her clothes!” exclaimed Scorpius with interest.  Holly’s robe had come open when Richards had turned her.  “Have you ever seen anything like that?”  
          Richards fingered Holly’s House sweater curiously.  “It’s self-cleaning,” he concluded, “but I’ve never seen these colors before.  They aren’t Nons, and they certainly aren’t Slytherin…”  
          “What have we here?” came a soft voice from behind them.  Holly looked up.  She hadn’t heard anyone arrive, hadn’t felt it either.  The speaker was a tall man wearing emerald green robes with silver trim.  He had greasy graying hair that hung down shoulder length around his face, a hooked nose and dark black eyes that seemed to bore into all three of them.  Holly didn’t know the person, but she knew she had seen him once before, somewhere...  
          Both Malfoy and Richards instantly stood at attention and faced the person.  “Headmaster, sir,” stated Richards respectfully. “Excuse us, sir; we didn’t see you coming!”   
          The Headmaster acknowledged their greeting with a nod of his head.  “And who is this?” he asked turning his attention to Holly.  Was it her imagination?  His eyes seemed to light up briefly when he looked at her face; Holly thought she felt a touch of elation and recognition—but for only a moment.  Then his eyes became hooded and his expression guarded.  As for his emotions, Holly couldn’t sense them at all.  
          “That’s what we were trying to figure out,” replied Richards.  “I found her loose in the halls before hours.  I thought she had gotten out somehow so I brought her here.”  
          “But all the students are accounted for,” put in Malfoy quickly.  
          “So this one is an … _extra_ …” spoke the man in green softly and slowly, in almost a whisper.  The way he spoke and looked at her gave Holly the shivers.  
          “Unless the Nons are trying some new way to trick us,” replied Richards unwilling to admit he might have made a mistake.  
          “Hmmm,” said the Headmaster thoughtfully.  “Prefect Richards,” he began in that same soft tone, “one of your duties is to become familiar with all the students of the school not just their last names.  Had you taken the time to learn their faces as well, you would have realized that this girl does not attend Hogwarts, either as a Non, or as a Slytherin.”   
          His eyes briefly surveyed the rest of Holly.  Then he continued speaking, his voice barely above a whisper.  “Her strange clothing and lack of shoes,” both boys looked down in surprise at Holly’s feet, “would have further confirmed this reasoning.  Had you drawn the correct conclusion, Richards, you would have avoided the mistake of administering discipline unfairly.”  Both boys carefully kept their heads down; Holly saw Malfoy smile at the rebuke.  “It is not the policy of this school to lightly use the _Cruciatus_ curse against a fellow Slytherin.  I do not expect you to do it again.”  Richards face whitened considerably.  “And as for using it against this girl—”  
          “I didn’t touch her,” cut in Richards quickly. “I swear!  She just started screaming!”  
          “Is that so?” said the Headmaster ever so softly looking again at Holly’s face.  His black eyes seemed to bore straight into her.  “That makes you very interesting indeed.”  He studied her thoughtfully.  “Mr. Richards,” he commanded, still staring at Holly.  Richards looked up at the mention of his name.  “I believe you should get down to the Great Hall and take the time to learn all the _faces_ of the students at Hogwarts.  You will be,” he paused before speaking, “tested.”  The emphasis on the word "tested" gave Holly the creeps.  
          “Yes, sir,” replied Richards stiffly.  
          “Mr. Malfoy,” continued the Headmaster.  Scorpius looked up.  “Your breakfast is waiting for you.  Perhaps you should go to the Great Hall and eat it before it grows cold.”  There was a moment of silence and neither boy moved.  “You are … dismissed,” he added in that same soft voice.  
          “But sir,” stated Richards.  “What about the—”  
          “The girl and I have some,” he paused, “ _business_ to discuss in my office.”  His words seemed innocent enough, but his soft voice made Holly shiver all over.  
          “Yes sir,” said Richards with a knowing smirk.  Richards and Malfoy turned and walked down the hall.  Richards gave one last glance over his shoulder at the two as he walked away.  Holly and the Headmaster watched them turn the corner and vanish out of sight.  Then the two were alone in the hall.

 ********************

          Headmaster Severus Snape turned and regarded the girl on the floor thoughtfully.  She looked so much like someone else, someone he thought he had lost forever.  But that could not be true.  She was long dead.  “My name is Headmaster Snape,” he said to her softly.  Severus bent down and offered the girl his hand.  “And you might be?”  
          “Ho-Holly Wycliff,” replied the girl after a moment of hesitation.  The name was unfamiliar.  She looked at his offered hand fearfully.  
          “I have no intention of hurting you,” assured Severus as gently as he could while still holding out his hand.   
          Holly looked cautiously at him and then timidly accepted his offer of assistance.  Severus took her hand in his and gently helped her up.  His eyes narrowed sharply when he saw the bright red bruise marks on her face and wrist; he would have to talk with Richards about that.  Violence and force should never be used when other ways were possible.  When the girl stood firmly, he released her hand.  “How old are you?” he asked.  
          “Eleven, sir.”  
          Severus nodded.  She looked to be about that age.  “Come with me, please,” he said to her quietly but the girl hesitated, clearly still fearful.  “I assure you there are many ways I can _force_ your compliance,” continued Severus ever so softly.  He hated to scare her more but Severus suspected at this point implied threats would work better than pleading.  “But it would be much easier if you came willingly.”  Then he added practically, “Where would you go otherwise?”   
          After a moment, the girl, Miss Wycliff, nodded.  Severus began walking to his office.  Miss Wycliff followed behind slowly.  Severus slowed his step until the two were walking side by side.  He thought about his next move carefully.  The girl didn’t belong; yet she was here.  He needed to find out more—but where to begin?  
          After they had gone a few steps, Severus asked, “Where did you get your clothes?”  The girl hesitated.  “Miss Wycliff,” added Severus noting her reluctance, “I have no intention of hurting you, but I expect you to answer my questions and to tell the truth.  I will _know_ if you lie.”  The menace in his tone left her no doubt what might happen should she lie.  And he could determine lies easily now; he’d heard enough of them in his years as headmaster.  
          The girl took a deep breath.  “I got them in the tower, sir,” she said in a small voice.   
          “Which tower?”  Miss Wycliff pointed vaguely in one direction.  "The East Tower?" questioned Severus.  
          "I guess," she mumbled in agreement.  
          "What do _you_ call it?" Severus asked noting the uncertainty in her voice.   
          “Th-the Hufflepuff tower?” came the reluctant response.  
          Well, that matched the colors on her sweater.  But few persons called it the Hufflepuff Tower these days. That Miss Wycliff should know it as such was interesting indeed.  What should he ask next?  Something not too hard yet easily verifiable…  
           “The name Wycliff,” Severus began as they mounted the stairs.  “I am not familiar with it.  Is it a wizard name?”  He already knew it was not but was curious to see how the girl would respond.  
          “No, sir,” she replied keeping pace.  Then Miss Wycliff added very softly, “It’s Muggle.”  
          Muggle!  Severus suspected as much.  But that she would admit to it was most unusual.  Terrible things happened to Muggles found in the wrong place and this was definitely the wrong place for Muggles.  “Are your parents Muggle?”  The girl could only answer one way given her previous response.  But would she?  
          “Ye-yes, sir,” came the reply.  
          Severus stopped abruptly, turned and looked in her eyes, her beautiful green eyes.  To admit to such things was either incredibly foolish or—something else.  “Why are you at Hogwarts?” he asked her directly.  Miss Wycliff hadn’t sounded like a fool but he had to be sure.  
          “I go to school here, at least, I did…” The girl's voice trailed off, her face reflecting uncertainty.   
          What she had just said was incredible, impossible, unbelievable!  Yet Severus could see no indication of deceit in those eyes.  Had he understood correctly?  “Are you saying you are a Hogwarts student?” he questioned again.  
          “Y-yes,” the girl stammered.  “I mean, I thought I was…”  Severus waited for her to continue all the while watching her closely.  Miss Wycliff began again, “Richards said that only purebloods attended Hogwarts and that everyone else with wizard powers are in Azkaban prison, but I don’t know about that.  Yesterday,” the girl stopped.   
          “Yesterday…” Severus encouraged.  
          “I don’t know,” she began again.  “Yesterday, I went to bed in a room full of Hufflepuffs; this morning I woke up and there was no one there but me!  The dorms had been destroyed and, and I don’t know what happened!”  
          “Yesterday, you say,” murmured Severus thoughtfully.   
          “Yes, sir,” she nodded.   
          He turned and began walking again.  The girl followed.  Severus had to think about this.  What Miss Wycliff had said was totally impossible, yet she appeared to _believe_ what she was saying.  Stranger still, he could detect no indication of enchantment or other spells surrounding her.  The belief seemed to be hers alone—not magically induced.  
          “Did you get a letter?” Severus asked as they reached the seventh floor.  A simple enough question if she were really a Hogwarts student.  
          “Y-yes, sir,” Miss Wycliff replied finally, “but it came late.”  
          "Indeed," Severus murmured while they walked down the hall. A letter should not have come at all!  Families with Mudblood children received, at most, a knock at the door before being instantly carted away to Azkaban prison--before they knew what was happening, before they had a chance to run. That such a letter, had it actually arrived, supposedly arrived late was even more unusual.  "Where is your wand?" Severus asked presently.  
          “I don’t know, sir," the girl answered.  "I put it in the drawer in the bed stand last night and it wasn’t there this morning.  There wasn’t even a bed stand!”  
          “What kind of wand was it?”  
          “Um, Willow and Phoenix tail feather, I got it at Olivanders.”  
          “Did you now.”  A Mudblood shopping in Diagon Alley!  That did not happen these days.  “Where is your cat?” Severus asked suddenly.  
          “I don’t know, she was missing when I got up—” Miss Wycliff froze.  She looked up at Severus in surprise.  She had just realized the real meaning of that question.  “How did you—?”  
          “Miss Wycliff,” began Severus sternly, “Mr. Richards swore he never touched you; he would not _dare_ lie to me.  Yet it was your voice I heard screaming along with Mr. Malfoy’s as I walked down the hall.  It was not the scream of an actress.”  In truth, Severus did not need Richards' assurances.  He had known there was an Empath in their midsts the moment Severus heard _one_ curse and _two_ students screaming; it was not possible for Richards to cast the _Cruciatus_ curse on two students at once.  
          “Oh,” came a very small voice next to him.  
          “Do you know how to block yet?” he asked conversationally.  
          “No sir,” she admitted in that small voice.  “I keep on trying but it doesn’t work.”  
          The two continued walking.  An untrained Empath.  Whatever her origins, the Dark Lord would find her most useful.  The last Empath had decided to not cooperate with the Dark Lord's wishes.  She had died most horribly.  Because of her young age and inexperience, this one might be more compliant.  But Severus decided to not notify the Dark Lord immediately.  Miss Wycliff’s presence was a mystery that should be explored and explained first.  Also, he was loath to turn over to him someone that looked so much like, like _her_ —not again.  Severus stopped at the base of a very large stone gargoyle.   
          “Odd,” commented Miss Wycliff.  “Those snakes weren’t there before…  
          “Before?”  
          “Last September, when I arrived.”   
          Odd indeed.  Severus had all but forgotten that those snakes hadn’t always been there.  But they’d been added years ago not just months.  That Miss Wycliff noticed the difference so quickly…  Severus decided to try something—to test her knowledge.  “The Hufflepuff dorms,” he began softly while watching her closely, “were destroyed over ten years ago.  Along with the Griffindor and the Ravenclaw dorms.”  
          The blood drained from Miss Wycliff's face.  “What?!!” she protested. “That can’t be!!!  They were all there only yesterday!  You _must_ believe me!”  
          There could be no doubt _she_ believed it.  And Severus could still find no sign of enchantment around her.  What was she?  Some sort of time traveler perhaps?  “I believe _you_ believe it was only yesterday,” Severus finally said, “but that doesn’t make it true.”  He turned and faced the gargoyle.  _“Atropa Beladonna!”_    The gargoyle sprang to life and hopped aside.  The wall behind him split in two revealing a large spiral staircase.  “Come,” he commanded.  The two got onto the stairs and the stairs started moving smoothly up.  Severus had admonished Richards for drawing conclusions too quickly now he feared he might do the same.  He needed more information.  What else could he ask?  
          “Quickly, now,” Severus ordered while they rose ever higher.  “Your Professors?  Who teaches Herbology?”  
          “Professor Longbottom.”  
          “Defense against the Dark Arts?”  
          “Professor Lovegood.”  
          “Transfiguration and Charms?”  
          “Professor Iverson and Professor Flitwick.”  
          “Potions?”  
          “Professor Slughorn.”   
          “Muggle Studies?”  
          “What?  I’ve never heard of such a class.”  
          Muggle Studies had become a requirement long before the dorms had been destroyed.  Where did that place Miss Wycliff?  She had answered his questions quickly and without hesitation.  They were names she clearly knew.  The names she spoke were all familiar to him, too, though not all as Professors.  What did that mean?  
         They reached the top of the steps.  Severus opened a polished oak door.  He pointed to its brass doorknocker that had the shape of a twining snake.  “Remember this?” he asked casually.  
          “No,” she replied calmly.  “It was some sort of bird with claws, I think.”  And so it had been, once.  
          “Who,” Severus asked finally, “is your Headmaster?”  
          “It’s Headmistress McGonagall,” answered Miss Wycliff softly.   
          The two entered the Headmaster’s office.  Miss Wycliff looked about.  Her face lit up when she saw the walls covered with portraits of past headmasters.  “That’s where it was!” she said with pleasure.  “I’ve been trying to remember where I had seen you before.  Your portrait was up on the wall!”  She turned and looked at him with new eyes.  “You looked a lot younger in the portrait and not very nice.  But it was definitely you!”  
          Severus stared at her, stunned.  Did she realize what she had just said?!!!  He looked closely at her face; that innocent look remained.  No, of course not—especially not if, as she claimed, she was a First year with Muggle parents.  Miss Wycliff had no idea of the implication of her words.  The only people whose portraits were placed on that wall were those of _past_ Headmasters--Headmasters who had _died!_   And he was neither _past_ nor _dead!!!_   This was no time traveler--not with memories such as these!  If the girl spoke true, what, then, was she?  Severus needed time to think.  “Have you eaten yet, Miss Wycliff?” he asked in a casual voice while walking over to his desk.   
          “No, sir,” she replied.  
          “You must be hungry.”  Using his wand Severus caused some breakfast food to magically appear on his desk along with a single table setting.  Then he pointed at a chair in the corner and made it slide forward.  “Please, sit down and have a bite to eat.”  Miss Wycliff hesitantly sat down and Severus sat down across from her.  “I’m afraid I’ve already eaten,” he said by way of an apology for not joining.  While the girl ate, Severus considered her words and what he had learned.  He put his long fingers together and tapped them in a manner he had seen Dumbledore do many times so long ago.  It did seem to help with one’s thinking…

 


	18. Chapter 18

          Miss Wycliff gave every indication of being a Hogwarts’ student yet her details were wildly off.  She admitted to being a Mudblood—even claimed to have received a letter.  But letter or not, even a late letter, it was just _not_ possible for a Mudblood to attend Hogwarts, and hadn’t been for a very long time…  This could all be some sort of weird trick.  Severus needed to know more.  Perhaps, if he gave her some information, he would learn more from her responses.  
          “Miss Wycliff,” Severus began after she had finished most of her food.  “There seems to be considerable difference between your _yesterday_ and my _today_.”  The girl looked up at him, waiting.  She no longer seemed as fearful of him.  “Those people you mentioned,” Severus continued.  How to put it?  “I am familiar with their names.  But I am afraid they are all dead.”  He watched as Miss Wycliff's face turned very pale.  
          “All of them?” she whispered in disbelief.  
          “Yes,” he replied calmly.  “They’ve been dead for some time.”  
          “That can’t be!” Miss Wycliff said trying to absorb the news.  “They were just—” she began again, “How?”  Tears streamed down her face, crying for people Severus knew to be long dead.  
          “Most of them died,” he answered softly, remembering, “fighting a lost cause.”  Severus waited until the crying stopped.  Then he conjured up a handkerchief and handed it to Miss Wycliff to wipe her face.  One could easily bewitch a person to believe something false, but to make her feel it—that required much more.  Severus had had many years experience with all sorts of magic, both light and dark.  He was convinced that these tears came naturally, borne from a continued association with these people.  Yet that could not be possible--they were _dead!_ Only one other person knew how much Lily Evans had meant to him and _that_ person, he knew, had told no one.  “Have you ever,” Severus began as casually as he could, “heard of the name Harry Potter?”  
          “Yes, sir,” Miss Wycliff replied promptly.  “He’s my cousin.”  
          Cousin!!!  Had he heard her right?  Severus gripped the armrest tightly with his hand in an effort to not betray the emotions he felt.  Keeping his face totally blank and watching her closely, he softly asked, “Did you say _was?_  Or _is?_ ”  
          “ _Is,_ of course,” responded Miss Wycliff easily.  She, again, clearly had no concept of the importance of her words.  “He’s the one who got me into Hogwarts,” Miss Wycliff continued.  “He took me to Diagon Alley to get my wand.  He’s my legal guardian while at Hogwarts, my parents don’t like wizards and stuff too much.  He’s very famous in the wizard world, you know.”  Miss Wycliff put down the handkerchief and returned to her eating finishing the food on her plate.  
          Severus just stared at her, thinking about her words and what they could mean.  The details always the details—that was what made her so convincing.  He had visited the Dursley house once when Harry was little; had known the kind of people they were, seen their son…  Son!  Miss Wycliff could _not_ be a cousin--not with _that_ surname!  “But I don’t recall the name Wycliff being connected with the Potter family,” Severus replied cautiously.  
          Miss Wycliff put down her fork and looked up.  “No,” she said reflectively, “I don’t suppose you would.  I remember hearing they changed the name when the family went into hiding.  I don’t know what the original name was.  That was all before Cousin Harry defeated Lord Voldemort, of course.”  
          Severus choked!  He quickly began coughing to cover the choking, to cover emotions he feared he would betray.  Miss Wycliff had spoken the name so fearlessly!  She could not be part of any plot to up-seat him.  No one in this world would ever _dare_ have her say such things.  What was she?  How had she come to exist?  First things first:  “Miss Wycliff,” Severus said softly after clearing his throat.  “You would be wise to never mention that name aloud again.  People who do, tend to,” he paused to further emphasize his next word, “ _die.”_  
          “But I don’t understand,” Miss Wycliff said confused, “if he is dead, surely no one would mind if—” Her green eyes grew very big as she suddenly realized what he was trying to say.  “He’s not dead, not _here_ , is he?” she whispered looking very much afraid.  
          “No, Miss Wycliff, he isn’t,” confirmed Severus.  
          Miss Wycliff buried her face in her hands.  “I don’t understand,” she sobbed.  “How could this be?  What’s happened?”  
          “I don’t know,” replied Severus honestly.  For the first time he considered whether there might be more to Miss Wycliff’s words than fanaticized ravings.  She had clearly lived her life without the shadow of the Dark Lord.  How could that be possible?  Even Muggles feared that name today, those who knew it.  Severus silently watched Miss Wycliff cry while he considered this new angle.  He closed his eyes trying to think things through.  
          If, as he was fairly certain, she had been untouched by magic and had been speaking the truth all along, then it would mean _he_ had been the one bewitched.  Severus doubted that.  Had that been the case, he would never think such thoughts.  Besides, it would take considerable knowledge and magical powers to bewitch a whole world changing it so drastically.  No one could do that.  What, then?  
          “Wh-what—” Miss Wycliff’s words interrupted Severus’ thoughts.  “What happened to Cousin Harry?”   
          That was something he could answer, something he knew all too well.  “During his second year at Hogwarts,” began Severus, “something sinister called the Chamber of Secrets was opened.  Harry Potter, along with two other students, Weasley children, if I recall right, vanished.  They were never seen again and eventually presumed dead.”   
          There had been a fairly large ceremony in memory of the two Weasley children at the time.  Nothing for Harry Potter.  His aunt and uncle hadn’t even mourned his passing.  Harry Potter had merely become The Boy Who _Had_ Lived.  That had always been Severus’ one regret, the failure to protect Lily’s son.  Aloud, Severus added, “The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at the time was found later wandering the Halls of Hogwarts with his mind so muddled that he was unable to tell what happened.  He never recovered.”  
          “I don’t know about any Chamber of Secrets,” whispered Miss Wycliff wiping her green eyes dry.  Her voice trembled ever so slightly as she looked at him.  “But in his fourth year, Lord, uh, You-know-Who, used Cousin Harry somehow to get a new body.  And three years later Cousin Harry and, You-Know-Who, met in the Great Hall of Hogwarts to, to, you know, to fight, and…there’s this big painting across from the Defense against the Dark Arts room that shows it all,” she concluded weakly beginning to sob again, “but it’s probably not there, now, is it?” she said through her tears.  
          She’d never even heard of the Chamber of Secrets!  Was it that inconsequential?  No one knew what happened that fateful night but the mystery of the Chamber nearly closed Hogwarts and remained a source of bedtime threats by parents everywhere.  Was it possible Potter _should_ have returned alive?  Why hadn’t he then?   
          Severus’s eyes opened wide in shock!  A _Time Reverse_ _Curse_!  Of course!  Hinted at only in the darkest of magic books, a _Time Reverse Curse_ could supposedly guarantee a second chance in light of the unthinkable--a wizard's death.   It provided the wizard an opportunity to go back in time to "fix" things.    
          A _Time Reverse Curse_ worked similar in principle to a Time-Turner.  The Granger girl had used a Time-Turner in her third year to take additional classes.  She drowned herself in work so she wouldn’t have time to think about her grief at the loss of her friends.  It may have succeeded, but by the end of the year the long hours, sleepless nights and little food had taken its toll.  Hermione Granger had looked more like a skeletal walking zombie than the brilliant vibrant student she had once been.  She never recovered her original spark and vanished from school soon after.   
          But a basic Time-Turner could reverse time only so far and a dead wizard could not operate it.  A _Time Reverse Curse_ on the other hand, used a cursed object instead of a live wizard.  A single touch would cause the object to act as a limited Time-Turner automatically reversing time to a pre-designated _moment_ while the wizard was still alive presumably giving the wizard a second chance to work events in his favor thus avoiding a future "death."  The curse was pure speculation, of course.  What wizard truly contemplated _failure_ and took the time to act on it?  The problem was knowing _which_ moment to use.  A _Time Reverse Curse_ had to be set in advance, in anticipation, of a "possible" future instance where something "might" go wrong.  In addition, if the _Time Reverse Curse_ **_was_** activated, there had to be some way to inform the wizard who cast the curse of what originally occurred so corrections could be made the "next" time around.  Difficult to say the least.  
          Logistics aside, it was extremely dangerous to meddle with time.  Usually wizards who did so ended up killing their past or future selves by mistake or created such confusion that it required the whole Ministry of Magic to sort it out.  Of course, those were the wizards who had meddled with time that Severus _knew_ about.  Cast properly, any spell involving time should seamlessly over-ride the original events creating a new timeline.  If a new timeline had been created by a _Time Reverse Curse,_ Severus would never know and should have never found out.  Why, then, did he think of such things?  
          Severus looked again at Miss Wycliff with her ever so familiar face, fair skin, blonde hair and green eyes.  She existed, yet she shouldn't and she had _never_ heard of the Chamber of Secrets.  Someone had opened the Chamber of Secrets, had planned and carried out the abduction of Ginny Weasley that fateful night.  This person was never found or identified.  Was it possible that the same person could have planted a _Time Reverse Curse_ as well?  The curse, if there was one, was clearly quite powerful, brilliantly executed and totally undetectable!  Or, rather, it had been...   If such a thing had occurred, how had Miss Wycliff escaped such a powerful curse untouched?  What made her so special?  Severus could only think of one thing.  Miss Wycliff was related to the Boy Who _Had_ Lived, or maybe, the Boy Who _Should-Have_ Lived.  
          Severus knew Dumbledore had cast numerous powerful protective spells around Harry Potter in the hopes that Harry might live long enough to fulfill his prophesy. The very act of sheltering Harry put the lives of those who lived with him in danger too.  Might Dumbledore have also cast similar spells of protection for Harry’s only living relatives?  If so, could the protective spells placed around the Dursleys been strong enough to resist the effects of a _Time Reverse Curse_ as well?  Perhaps…  Slowly, Severus turned his head to look at a specific portrait on the wall.  
          The people in the portraits were all leaning forward listening to the exchange between Severus and Miss Wycliff.  They hastily sat back and tried to appear uninterested when Severus looked up.  All, that is, except the portrait of Dumbledore.  The Dark Lord had suggested destroying that particular portrait as he had all of the other portraits he found of Dumbledore.  Severus argued that such destruction would go against Hogwarts tradition.  And so the portrait remained isolated in this room, all but forgotten.  The person in the portrait rarely spoke these days but now it looked at him with earnest eyes.  
          “Now is your chance to keep your promise, Severus,” he implored.  His very words seemed to answer all Severus’ unasked questions.  Miss Wycliff looked up, surprised at the third voice in the room.  She followed Severus’ glance and also stared at the portrait on the wall.  
         “But she saw my portrait…” Severus protested softly.  
          “What will happen to _her_ if you don’t?” the face in the portrait asked looking over at Miss Wycliff.  Severus looked at the girl, the very image of Lily Evans.  If she stayed, the Dark Lord would surely want her; Severus couldn’t keep her safe.  Dumbledore was right, he couldn’t risk letting her down again.   
          Severus sighed.  “We, too, have a painting that commemorates past events,” he said softly to Miss Wycliff.  “Would you like to see it?”  
          “I guess so,” she replied.  
          “Then come with me, please.”  Severus stood up and held out his hand to her.  She took the hand and followed him out the room.

 *******************

 

          The two walked silently down the hall each filled with their own thoughts.  They reached the steps and started walking down.  Most of the students were in class now, the few they passed were Slytherins patrolling the halls and watching the steps.  They each came to attention when they saw the Headmaster passing by.  Though curious about the girl with him, none asked any questions.  
          Finally they reached the base of the grand steps.  Severus led the girl to the end of the entryway opposite the massive front doors.  He stopped and turned around.  Miss Wycliff stopped too.  Together the two looked at the painting.   
          It was huge, covering the whole back wall.  Drawn larger than life it depicted three wizards standing upon high craggy cliffs—two wore black robes and one was dressed in white.  The imposing figure of the Dark Lord stood in the foreground.  Robed in black, his pale face flushed with victory as he cast his final killing curse towards the figure in white, Albus Dumbledore.  Dumbledore stood bravely trying his best to block the curse.  On the other side, also robed in black, stood a handsome younger wizard.  His face displayed earnest concentration as he cast his spell on Dumbledore, also a killing curse.  
          The two curses moved forward swiftly striking Dumbledore at the same time and he collapsed in death.  The Dark Lord and the young man stepped back and watched Dumbledore fall.  Then they raised their wands in a salute to each other, the young man’s eyes alight with success.  A few seconds later, the scene repeated itself with the two wizards again striking in sync and Dumbledore collapsing in death.  The painting displayed an impressive vision of victory and defeat.  
          “I recognize this person,” said Miss Wycliff pointing to the Dark Lord but carefully not naming him.  He was in the painting with Cousin Harry, “and this,” she said pointing to Dumbledore.  “He was in the portrait in your office.  But who is the other one?”   
          Who indeed?  Had she known, had she recognized him, Severus may have had to revise all his conclusions.  “That is a person by the name of Tom Riddle,” he said softly.  Tom Riddle, the man of mystery.  He was a young wizard exceptionally skilled in the Dark Arts.  He suddenly appeared from nowhere to be the Dark Lord’s most trusted—not a follower exactly, but more of an associate.  Dumbledore seemed to know more than he ever let on about Tom Riddle, but that knowledge died with him.  
         “Tom Riddle appeared approximately two years after young Potter died,” continued Severus aloud.  “Little is known of his origins or whereabouts before that time.  He was instrumental in assisting the Dark Lord’s rise to power.  The Dark Lord seemed to trust him above all others.  It took both of them working together to defeat Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, considered by many to have been the greatest wizard of his time.”   
          Severus clearly remembered that day as if it were yesterday.  Dumbledore had known he would be going to his death yet he refused Severus’ offer of help.  He had insisted Severus continue his undercover role with the Dark Lord.  He made Severus promise to become the next Headmaster and protect the students.  _That_ promise Severus had been able to keep.  The Dark Lord had been pleased with Severus’ services and happily granted his request.  
          “After the death of Dumbledore,” Severus continued softly, “resistance to the Dark Lord quickly ended; those who continued to fight him ... died.”  After the resistance had collapsed, the Dark Lord ordered the destruction of the Griffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff houses.  It had been Severus’ idea of having the Sorting Hat sort into two houses, the Slytherins and those who could not, would not, be sorted into Slytherin, the Non-Slytherins.  The decision had not been popular with the Death Eaters, but had made it possible for more students to attend Hogwarts.  Severus hadn’t been able to do anything for the Mudblood and half-breed students who, if they still lived, languished away in Azkaban Prison.   
          It had been Tom Riddle who suggested the huge room beneath Myrtle’s bathroom as the dorms for the Non-Slytherins.  He never said how he knew of it.  The location seemed to amuse both Tom and the Dark Lord though they never explained why.   
          Miss Wycliff and Severus continued to watch the painting with its endless cycle of death and victory.  
          “You’re dead,” said Miss Wycliff suddenly.  
          “What?”  
          “Your portrait on the wall,” explained Miss Wycliff looking up at him.  “It means you died in my world, just like Dumbledore did.”  
          Severus turned away.  “That is of no consequence,” he replied.  
          “It is to me,” continued the girl earnestly.  “How can I thank you for your help?”  
          Severus looked down at Miss Wycliff, her green eyes and the face he knew so well.  He was touched by her simple faith that somehow he would make things right.  “You already have,” he said gently.  He looked away.  “We must be going,” Severus said.  He took her hand and led her off to the stairs.   
          “You must love her very much to do this for me,” spoke up Miss Wycliff abruptly as they started up the steps.  
          “What?”  
          “Lily Evans,” she replied softly.  Surprised, Severus stopped and looked directly at Miss Wyciff.  “You block your emotions very well,” she explained further, “better than Professor Lovegood or Cousin Harry, but every time you look at me, I feel a bit of, _love._   It can’t be me that makes you feel that way; we’ve only just met, so it must be _her_ you keep seeing when you look into my face.”  
          “I must learn to block my emotions better,” Severus managed to choke out while sounding calm.  A morning with Miss Wycliff and she had already learned Severus’ deepest secret—one even the Dark Lord himself never suspected, and that was with him _knowing_ she was an Empath.  The Dark Lord must never get his hands on her!  He resumed walking with Miss Wycliff by his side.  
          “I wish more people could block like you,” said Miss Wycliff ruefully, “sometimes, I feel real sick to my stomach with all those different emotions coming at me from all sides.”  
          “I expect that is difficult.” Severus murmured.  
          “It is,” agreed Holly, “but Professor Lovegood says once I figure out blocking everything will get better.  She says it’s just a matter of getting the Dinglesquirts of the left side of my brain lined up with the Plakiolehookles on the right side.”  
_“Professor Lovegood,”_ thought Severus.   _“Loony Lovegood???”_   She hadn’t made it past her fifth year at Hogwarts before Bellatrix, annoyed with an article in the Quibbler, had tortured and killed both her and her dad.  
          They turned off on the third floor and started walking down the hall.  Miss Wycliff continued to chatter to Severus like he was an old friend.  In all his years at Hogwarts, no one had ever talked to him like that.  “…everyone who has ever seen Lily says I look a lot like her,” continued Miss Wycliff.  
_“You do,”_ thought Severus but he didn’t interrupt.  
          “…It’s no big deal at school though,” she added while they walked, “except for Professor Slughorn.  He keeps calling me “Lily” whenever I get a potion right.  That’s kind of annoying.”  
_“Slughorn,”_ remembered Severus silently.  He had gone into hiding after Dumbledore died.  He’d probably be there still if Fenwick hadn’t sniffed him out one day.  Figuring anyone in hiding was no friend to the Dark Lord, Fenwick decided to “bite” first, so to speak, and ask questions later.  The resulting bloody mess found in the house made major headline Muggle news when the actual owners of the house returned from their holidays a week later.  
          “…But it turned out to be a big deal at home, though,” continued Miss Wycliff.  “I guess Grandma hated her sister Lily and when she saw me looking so much like her—well, she only got a quick glimpse, thank goodness.  I had to cut my hair as a disguise!  I had no idea she felt like that.”  
          “Your grandmother,” interrupted Severus, “was a mean spirited person who called Lily a _freak_ just because they couldn’t go to the same school together!”  Miss Wycliff shut her mouth and blinked a few seconds at that.  “Forgive me,” added Severus earnestly, “that was terribly rude.”  
          “That’s O.K.,” she said acknowledging his apology, “I expect Cousin Harry would have said the same thing, except he was trying to be polite.  She _is_ my grandmother, you know.  But it has been a problem, my going to Hogwarts, you know.  Grandmother doesn’t know yet, you see, and we had to go to all sorts of lengths to keep it from her.”  
          “Your Grandmother doesn’t know you’re attending Hogwarts?” asked Severus amazed.  
          “No,” continued Miss Wycliff.  “Dad said he’d try to tell her this summer.  But I don’t know if he will.  He’s afraid she might split a gasket when she learns and never talk to us again.”  
          “She might at that,” agreed Severus remembering that angry sister he had seen at the train station.   
          “Too bad I can’t use my wand during the summer,” laughed Miss Wycliff.  “I might need it for protection should Grandma explode!”  
          Wand!  Severus froze.  “I need to get something first!” he said to Miss Wycliff.  He wheeled around, his emerald and gold robes flowing, and headed the other direction.  “Come with me!” he said urgently, and grabbing her hand, set off at a quick pace.  
          The two raced down the hall.  The classes had let out and there were students in the halls.  But the students all stepped aside and let the Headmaster and his “victim” pass.  The Headmaster’s wrath was well known.  Some students gave Holly a pitying glance as she passed but none dared question the authority of the Headmaster.   
          Back through the halls they went and up the stairs four flights.  They moved down another hall until they were again facing the gargoyles that guarded the Headmaster’s office.  Severus gave the password and soon the two were again in his office.   
          At this point, Severus released Holly’s wrist.  Using his wand, he moved the heavy desk, now cleared of breakfast food and dishes, to one side.  Beneath the desk, a small rectangular segment of the rug rose and floated in the air.  It landed gently on the desk.  Severus knelt and lifted a piece of polished floorboard up and set it aside revealing a small hole beneath.  He pointed the wand into the hole where it glowed brightly for a minute.  Then he reached into the hole and lifted out a small piece of paper and a skinny long rectangular box.  He looked at the paper briefly, a photo of Lily smiling happily, before tucking it into his robe.  Then he brought the box to Holly.  
          Puzzled, Holly took the box and lifted its lid.  Inside lay a polished wand.  It was honey colored and seemed to glow in flickering torchlight.  
          “This was your Aunt Lily’s wand,” Severus said softly.  “I want you to have it.”  Dumbledore found it after Lily died and had given it to him.   
          Miss Wycliff’s eyes grew wide “Oh no,” she breathed looking at it in wonder, “I can’t take this, it means too much to you.”  
          “Please,” Severus said sincerely.  “I won’t be needing it.  You might have use of it”  
          Miss Wycliff reached into the box and drew out the wand.  She swished it gently.  It gave off a soft stream of yellow white sparks.  Miss Wycliff looked up at Severus; there were tears in her eyes.  “Thank you so much Headmaster Snape; I’ll never forget you.”  She gave him a warm hug.  Severus awkwardly enfolded her with his own arms; he was unused to such affection.  
          “A-hem,” came a voice.  Both Severus and Holly looked up towards the sound.  The sound came from one of the portraits; a slender man with gray-black hair, thin black eyebrows and a pointed beard peered out at them.  “I hate to interrupt, Severus,” the man in the portrait said in a high reedy voice, “but the Dark Lord sent a message reminding you that he intends to inspect the school today and he wants to be sure everything is ready for his arrival.”   
          “Thank you, Phineas,” said Severus quietly.  Phineas Nigellus Black, a Slytherin and past Headmaster, was the only portrait that consented to talk to the Dark Lord and pass on messages.  He did his job well.  
          Severus looked down at Miss Wycliff.  “We need to get going,” he said to her.   
          Clutching the wand tightly, the girl that looked so much like Lily placed her free hand in his and looked up at his face.  “I’m ready,” she said calmly.  “Let’s go.”

*******************

          Severus led her out the office and back down the halls.  After they started down the stairs Miss Wycliff asked, “Where are we going?”   
          “To the trophy room,” answered Severus as they continued walking.  “There is something there I want you to see.”  
          “Oh?”  
          “It’s a small plaque bearing three names,” he continued.  “It’s most unusual.”  
          “Why is it unusual?”  
          “Two of the names on the plaque, though they attended Hogwarts at the same time,” Severus explained, “were from different years and would have had little reason to associate with each other.”  
          “And the third?”  
          “The third seems to be the name of someone totally unrelated to the other two.”  
          “That _is_ odd,” Miss Wycliff agreed.  They reached the third floor and began walking down its halls.  
          “The three names have absolutely no reason to be connected, yet they are there together on this plaque,” Severus added.  Miss Wycliff listened silently while she walked along with him.  Severus continued, “The first two names are Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter,” he stated without emotion.   
          Miss Wycliff looked up at him, her green eyes very wide.  “They got married,” she whispered.   
          “No,” Severus corrected flatly, “they both died in the Chamber of Secrets.”  
          Miss Wycliff did not argue.  “And the third name?” she asked in a tiny voice.  
          “That is the name of a person who stood by the side of the Dark Lord when the Dark Lord proclaimed his return two years _after_ Potter and Weasley’s death,” replied Severus dryly.  “That name is Tom Riddle.”  Miss Wycliff’s grip on his hand tightened while they walked, but she didn’t speak.   
          There was more, of course.  It was only much later that Severus discovered the engraved trophy bearing Tom Riddle’s name dating some sixty years earlier.  Yet Tom Riddle, when he stood by the side of the Dark Lord, had looked like a young schoolboy not much older than 15 or 16 years.  Nor did Tom seem to age as others did in all the years Severus had known him.   
          The plaque with the three names had practically reeked of Dark Magic but when Severus showed it to Dumbledore, the Headmaster told Severus to leave it alone.  When Severus mentioned the plaque to Tom Riddle, Tom had laughed and called it an unnecessary precaution that would bother no one.   
          There was one other curious event.  Severus remembered it well.  One day the Dark Lord had called in Tom Riddle and suggested that, despite over 15 years of devoted service, Tom should seek his fortune elsewhere.  This event was curious in many ways.  Usually the Dark Lord merely killed those he no longer trusted and fed them to his snake, Nagini; he didn't send them away.  Curious still was how Tom Riddle had accepted the suggestion without argument and immediately left for the Americas.  While they talked, the Dark Lord had lovingly stroked a small thin book with a shabby black cover…  Severus realized with a start that he had seen that particular book once before—in the hands of Ginny Weasley.  She had been writing in it once during Potions instead of taking notes.  When caught in the act, the Weasley girl had hastily tucked the book back in her bag… What would the Dark Lord want with such a book?  
          Severus could think of only three Magicians capable of actually casting a _Time Reverse Curse_ , the Dark Lord himself, but he had not yet risen when Harry Potter vanished, Albus Dumbledore, who would never cast such a curse, and _maybe_ the relatively unknown, but exceptionally gifted mysterious Tom Riddle…  
          “I was thinking,” began Severus thoughtfully, “that since two of the people listed on the plaque subsequently went into the Chamber of Secrets, might not the third person have been there, as well?”  Miss Wycliff’s steps slowed.  “And perhaps,” Severus continued speculatively, “something occurred in that chamber preventing Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley from returning from that chamber alive as they _should_ have…”  
          “Is this possible?”  
          “Many terrible things can be attempted with Dark Magic, Miss Wycliff,” said Severus evading her question.  “Meddling with time is, perhaps, the most difficult to detect and the most dangerous.”  He looked down at the girl.  “You claim to have woken up this morning to a world totally different from that which you remembered.  Do _you_ think this is possible?”   
          Miss Wycliff was silent as they finally entered the trophy room.  It contained many cases filled with brightly glittering shields, badges and trophies.  “Headmaster?” asked Miss Wycliff stopping to look around the room.  
          “Yes?”  
          “How does one undo something like this—something that happened so very long ago?”  
          “I don’t know how to undo something like this,” Severus softly said releasing her hand.  He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into that face and those beautiful green eyes one last time,  “I am part of all this,” he whispered.  “It must be _you_ that finds the way.”  Severus looked quickly away from her afraid she might see tears, afraid of what he must do next.  Afraid he wouldn’t have the strength to do it.  He stared blankly at the walls as if looking but he already knew where it was.  
          “Ah,” he said finally forcing his voice to sound cheerful.  He released Miss Wycliff and moved to one of the walls.  “There it is!  This is the plaque I wanted you to see.”  He reached out and, using his robe, rubbed away the dust and grime that covered it.  “Come and tell me what you think.”   
          The girl moved forward to look.  “Severus!” she suddenly said.  
          “What?”  Severus looked over at Miss Wycliff, surprised.  
          “Albus Severus Potter!” she explained while standing on her toes to look at the plaque.  “I thought it was such a funny name at the time. But he named his son after you, didn’t he?  Albus Severus Potter has green eyes…” she added speaking more slowly now, distracted by the reflection of her own eyes in the mirror-like quality of the plaque, “…just like his dad—” Miss Wycliff’s green eyes seemed to glow weirdly back at both of them.  
          _“—just like Lily,”_ added Severus silently.  He felt oddly comforted by that thought.  He watched as Miss Wycliff’s free hand reached slowly up towards the plaque.  “Good luck, Miss Wycliff,” he said aloud as she touched the silver heart.   
          Miss Wycliff’s whole body began to fade growing more and more transparent with every second...  Then she vanished completely.

 


	19. Chapter 19

          Total darkness surrounded Holly.  As if awakening from a trance, Holly blinked and lowered her hand.  She looked around and could see nothing.  She could hear nothing either.  Where was she?  What had happened?  Holly stood motionless trying to figure things out.  Slowly bits and pieces came to mind.  There was the nightmare school, Headmaster Snape and the silver heart.  Holly hadn’t meant to touch the heart; it was as if she couldn’t stop herself.  Vaguely she remembered hearing Headmaster Snape wish her “good luck.”  What had he meant?  Had he known this would happen?  What _had_ happened?   
          Gradually Holly became aware she was not alone.  Despite the darkness and silence she could sense someone else—someone exhausted and very, very sad.  Holly could feel the tears stream down her face but didn’t know why.  She brought her hand up to brush away the tears and realized she was still holding Lily’s wand.  
_“Lumnos!”_ Holly whispered waving the wand.  Nothing happened.  Holly tried again. _“Lumnos!”_ Nothing happened.  Giving up, Holly stowed Lily’s wand in her pocket. Then she stretched both hands out into the darkness and cautiously moved towards the source of the emotion.  It seemed familiar, somehow.  “Hello?” Holly called out while groping in the dark.  
          A low voice answered.  “He’s dead” the voice moaned.  "I killed him!"  
          Holly knew that voice!  “Albus?  Is that you?  Are you here?”  She took some more halting steps towards the sound while feeling around with her arms.  “It’s me, Holly.”  
          “He’s dead!!!”  The voice repeated sadly ignoring her, “and it’s all my fault!”  The voice trembled with emotion.  
          “Who’s dead?” asked Holly fearing she already knew the answer.  She continued to take tiny halting steps towards the sound; if she could keep him talking, maybe she could find him.  The voice sounded much closer now.  
          “Dad!” came the reply.  “I couldn’t help it; I couldn’t stop it; it’s all my fault!  He’s dead and I did it!”  The grief was overwhelming.   
          Holly couldn’t stop herself from crying but she still tried to move forward.  The voice seemed so close.  Suddenly she bumped into something!  About to fall, Holly's hands flew out forward to steady herself and they touched something soft…  “Albus?  Is that you?”  
          Immediately, the voice started screaming: “Get away from me!  Get away from me!  Don’t touch the chair!”  That intense sorrow instantly turned to terror!  Impelled by emotional instinct not her own, Holly scrambled to back away.  But she couldn’t see what she was doing.  In pushing away, her hands touched something hard and firm.  Immediately Holly felt herself being sucked forward by a grasp so strong she couldn’t resist.  Thick cold bands wrapped themselves around Holly’s arms and chest slamming her into the base of the chair and pulling her up and forward.  All the while the voice kept on screaming: “Get away!  Get away!”  Frantically Holly tried to pull away.  
          Suddenly her arms stopped moving up.  The bands still tugged but they had snagged on something.  Holly reached with her fingers grabbing for anything; she felt other fingers, a hand.  Twisting her arm, she managed to unwrap the band of one of her hands.  She felt the band twist and turn trying to wrap itself around her again but it finally latched onto the _other_ wrist and hand.  Using her free hand Holly unwrapped the other band guiding it by feel to the _other_ wrist.  The band immediately latched on.  
          Using both hands Holly reached for the band that pulled her body up.  She tugged and unwound it as best she could finally breaking free of its grasp.  Holly slid to the floor.  In a panic, she scrambled quickly away from the chair, away from Albus.  She sat in the darkness panting.  The voice quit screaming.   
          “Albus,” began Holly, “what is goi—”  Abruptly the lights came on.  Holly could see again.  She was sitting on a stone floor in a small four-sided room with walls of stone.  Flickering torches mounted up high on the walls cast eerie shadows throughout the room.  Holly could see no door or windows.   
          What drew Holly’s attention most was the massive chair in front of her.  It was made of plain heavy dark wood.  Huge straps attached to the chair wrapped tightly around a tear streaked Albus.  He was bound so tightly that he could scarce move his fingers.  Each arm was securely held down to an armrest; his chest and upper body was pinned to the back of the chair; his legs were bound to the chair base preventing any movement.  The ends of the straps curled and uncurled, floating in the air, as if seeking something else to latch on to.  
          “Albus!” exclaimed Holly getting up.   
          “Keep away!” warned Albus in a horse voice.  “Don’t touch me!”  
          Holly froze in place.  “I don’t understand?” began Holly, puzzled.  But Albus didn’t look at Holly.  His eyes were glued to a fixed point just beyond Holly.  Holly turned around and looked.  Behind her was a huge standing mirror.  She could see both hers and Albus’ reflection in it.  As she watched, a shadowy mist began to appear in front of the mirror.  The mist grew thicker and thicker until it began to take form and shape.  
          “It’s happening again,” croaked Albus eagerly.  “Maybe we have a chance!”   
          “What do you m—?” Holly began.  Then her voice trailed away.  Her blood chilled.  The misty form had grown firmer and more distinct.  It became the figure of a proud, pale young man with black hair and cold dark eyes.  She had seen him once before in a painting jubilantly casting his curse killing Headmaster Dumbledore over and over again.   
          Tom Riddle fixed its eyes straight at the chair holding Albus.  “Hello, Harry Potter,” he said coldly.  “Surprised to see me?” 

 ********************

 

 

          Tom Riddle smiled at Albus and continued speaking triumphantly.  “It was little Ginny’s idea, actually.  She was so sure you were absolutely the greatest wizard ever born that we cooked up this surprise for you on the off chance her assessment of you was more than the ravings of a lovesick little girl.”  
          “Ginny?” spoke out Holly, confused.  
          “Hush!” commanded Albus urgently, his eyes glued to the figure.  “I didn’t hear this last time.”  
          “…wondered how I got you here,” continued Riddle oblivious of the words spoken between Holly and Albus.  Holly returned her attention to the figure.  It must be a recording of some kind or he would have surely noticed that it was _not_ Harry Potter who sat in the chair.  
          “Little Ginny kept on and on about your beautiful green eyes; she said no one at school had eyes as green as yours,” he continued.  “She even told me how her brother got detention in the trophy room.  So we set this little trap in the trophy room where someone serving detention would be sure to see it.  If you managed to survive, I knew you would be sure to get another detention…  Our little trap only affects people like you—with green eyes; but I knew lovesick little Ginny had only eyes for you.  She probably didn’t see anyone else’s eyes let alone their color so I had her fetch some of your hair to add to the spell.  That way only a _Potter_ could activate it.  And here … you … are!”   
          Tom Riddle straightened and took a step back.  “You may wonder why I brought you here, Harry,” spoke Riddle calmly as he paced back and forth.  Holly cautiously stretched an arm forward.  Her hand sliced through the figure as if it wasn’t there.   
          “Don’t!” hissed Albus to Holly while still watching Riddle.  Holly moved to one side of the chair to avoid being run through by the figure.  
          Riddle stopped abruptly and fixed his gaze again on the chair, at Albus.  “You and I are about to have a rematch!”  He returned to pacing back and forth like a professor giving a lecture.  “While you sit here, time is moving backwards, back to before our little encounter.  We are going to relive those events, you and me, except this time,” he stopped and fixed his eyes again at Albus, “I can assure you, the outcome will be … very … different.”   
          Riddle resumed his pacing.  “I can’t imagine,” he continued, “how you could ever manage to walk out of the Chamber alive, let alone defeat me, but you couldn’t have done it alone.  You had to have help.  You’ll still have that help, one mustn’t meddle with time too much, but that help will arrive to you _here_ , in this room, instead of there, with your _other_ self.”  Tom Riddle smiled coldly.  “Feel free to use that help, whatever it may be, to help yourself—if you can!”  The ends of the straps binding Albus twisted in the air curling and uncurling more quickly as if emphasizing Albus’ inability to move.  
          “It seems unfair of me to expect you to fight your last battle without at least watching it happen.”  The figure said and gestured behind him to the large mirror.  Its polished surface began to swirl with color as he spoke.  “You will have the unique experience of being able to watch yourself _die!_ ”  The image of Tom Riddle laughed.  That high cold laugh gave Holly the shivers.  He again leaned forward and looked towards Albus with his piercing black eyes.  “I just don’t know what will happen to you _here_ , when you die,” Riddle pointed back at the mirror, “ _there_.  Will you die as well?  Or will you spend the rest of your days in this room, alone, and starve to death?”  Tom Riddle straightened up.  “Either way,” he concluded softly, coldly, “it will be good-bye to the famous,” he spoke very slowly emphasizing each word, _“Harry … Potter!”_  
          Then the figure dissolved into mist and vanished leaving Holly and Albus alone in the room.

********************

 

 

          “Albus,” began Holly moving towards him.  
          “Keep away,” Albus commanded urgently.  Holly froze in place.  “These straps keep tightening when I move,” he explained further.  “I don’t want you to risk being caught by them.  I think that’s mum there on the floor,” he continued, directing Holly's attention to the mirror.  Holly turned to look at the mirror.  It showed an overview of what appeared to be a large cavern.  The scene looked down over the head of a huge stone statue.  Between the feet at the base of the statue were three people in wizard robes.  One, a girl with bright red hair, lay still on the ground—Ginny Potter?  “That’s dad bending over her,” continued Albus.  Holly recognized a much younger version of Cousin Harry.  “And the third person, leaning over on that pillar is—I, uh, don’t know—”  
          “Tom Riddle,” finished Holly in a whisper.  She recognized him from the painting.  
          “The third person on the heart,” agreed Albus thoughtfully.  “That’d make sense.”  
          The two watched the mirror silently.  The boy that was Cousin Harry tried to lift Ginny off the floor.  Tom Riddle just watched.  Then Cousin Harry lowered Ginny; he stood and faced Riddle.  The two were talking but Holly couldn’t hear any words. Tom Riddle pulled out his wand and waved it in the air.  
          “What’s he doing?” asked Albus.  “It’s too far away for me to tell.”   
           Holly peered up close to the mirror.  “It looks like writing or something,” she decided aloud.  The letters seemed to move about and then stopped again.  “There’s an “I,” and an “O”..." she continued aloud.  "They’re gone now,” Holly concluded lamely implying she couldn’t read them.   
          But that wasn’t quite true.  Once Holly realized the tiny letters appeared backwards it had been fairly easy to guess their meaning; it just hadn’t made any sense.  Lord Voldemort?  How could Tom Riddle also be Lord Voldemort?  Holly vividly remembered the painting where Tom Riddle and Lord Voldemort both cast their killing curses.  How could there be two Lord Voldemorts?  With a sudden start, Holly realized that she had been dealing with two of everything all day; Tom Riddle had expected there to be two Harry Potters, why not two Lord Voldemorts?  Holly shook her head in confusion and shoved her thoughts aside as a bright red bird with a golden tail flew into the cavern.  It dropped something at Cousin Harry’s feet and landed on his shoulder.  
          “…a phoenix,” Albus was saying.  “Dad told me Dumbledore had one.”  The two in the mirror stood and talked to each other.  “Dad looks so young, doesn’t he?” commented Albus.   
          “Second year,” breathed Holly remembering.  
          “Huh?  How do you know?” asked Albus.  
          “Headmaster Snape told me,” she replied.  
          “Snape?  He’s dead!”  
          “I know,” whispered Holly sadly.  
          Suddenly Tom Riddle walked off.  He came to a stop between the high pillars and looked up.  Harry backed up hitting the chamber wall.  Something came down from the head of the statue and hit the floor.  It looked like a huge thick green snake.   
          “What’s that?” asked Holly.  She watched as Cousin Harry began to run, his arms outstretched.  
          “I think that’s a Basilisk,” replied Albus.  “If you look into its eyes, you die!  Dad must have his eyes closed.”  Cousin Harry suddenly tripped and fell.  The phoenix flew in and attacked the snake’s head darting in and out with its sharp beak and claws.   
          “I never heard about any of this,” complained Albus anxiously watching the snake thrash around.  “I don’t know what’s supposed to happen—There!” he said urgently.  “That’s his help!”  Holly looked around and saw a silver sword glistening on the floor.  Its handle glittered with bright red rubies.  “You’ve got to get it to him!”  
          “How?”  
          “I don’t know, but if you don’t do it, dad’s dead; we’re all dead!”  
          Holly lifted the heavy sword.  Where to put it?  She could only see Cousin Harry in the mirror so she swung the sword against the mirror aiming it at him.  It landed on the smooth surface with a loud clunk.  
          “Hurry!” cried Albus desperately.   
          Holly tried again.  Using the point of the sword, she jabbed the sword again and again at the mirror, mostly at and about Cousin Harry, trying to find a way in.  Suddenly, Holly felt the sword give a bit instead of bouncing off.  She pushed the sword in further and further.  The point had connected with the sorting hat Cousin Harry now wore on his head.  With a final thrust, the sword slid up to the hilt into the mirror.  Holly released her grip and pushed the sword the rest of the way into the mirror.  Panting, she stepped back.   
          They watched as Harry Potter grabbed the sword from out of the sorting hat.  The snake lunged at Cousin Harry.  Still clinging to the sword, he dodged and the snake hit the chamber wall.  The snake, its mouth opened wide, lunged at Cousin Harry again.  He brought the sword up into the roof of the snake’s mouth.  The snake keeled over sideways and fell, still twitching, to the floor.  The room went black.  Albus and Holly were again in darkness.

********************

 

 

          “What now?” wondered Holly out loud breaking the silence between them.  
          “I don’t know,” replied Albus in the darkness.  “Last time the Basilisk opened it’s mouth wide like that and it bit down.  It sank its teeth into dad’s chest…,”  Albus’ voice trembled.  “And it lifted its head up with dad in its mouth and kind of shook dad around, and I felt all sort of empty inside; then the room went dark, like this.  Except I knew dad was dead, and that I had _killed_ him by being here!”  
          “Well, he’s not dead now,” assured Holly.  “You didn’t kill him.”  
          Suddenly, the lights came on.  Both Holly and Albus looked over at the mirror.  Its polished surface again began to swirl with color.  The color solidified into a new scene.  This scene showed someplace outside in the open air.  Everything looked almost gray.  It could be dusk, or dawn.  In the gloom, Holly could make out a big castle and a huge door of some sort.  
          “Isn’t that Hogwarts?” asked Alblus.  
          Holly peered closely, “I think so,” she agreed, recognizing the familiar gate.  Both the walls of the castle and door looked heavily battered; she could see black scorch marks everywhere and some sections had crumbled leaving pock marked indentations.   
          “What are those lights on the other side in the forest?” questioned Albus drawing Holly’s attention to the tiny pinpricks of light moving in a line towards the wall.   
          She looked closely.  “Those are wands!” she announced.  “It’s a procession of some sort.”  They watched as the lights drew closer to the wall.  They winked out when they reached the forest edge.  Holly could see some shapes start across the huge grounds of Hogwarts.  Leading the procession was an imposing figure with a huge snake wrapped around his shoulders.  He came to a stop in front of the school entrance.  “Voldemort!” whispered Holly fearfully, recognizing that white skin and proud bearing.  
          “That’s Hagrid!” exclaimed Albus as the second person in the procession came into view.  “What’s he carrying?”  Others followed and gathered in a crowd behind Hagrid and Lord Voldmort.  Albus and Holly watched as the doors of Hogwarts opened and the reddish glow of the light within streamed out illuminating the figure in Hagrid’s arms.  
          “Dad!”  Albus exclaimed answering his own question.  “He looks dead!  He can’t be dead!” his voice rose in panic.  “What happened?”  
          “No,” assured Holly firmly, hoping desperately she was right.  “He can’t be dead.  We wouldn’t be watching it if he were dead.  It must be a trick of some sort!”  
          They watched as people from within filed out and onto the front steps and look onto the figure in Hagrid’s arms.  Lord Voldemort stood in front, to one side stroking the head of his snake.  Hagrid lowered Cousin Harry’s still form onto the grass.  The people from the castle surged forth only to stop after a flash of light from Lord Voldemort’s wand.  Lord Voldemort seemed to be talking to the crowd.  Abruptly someone broke through the crowd and raced forward towards Lord Voldemort.  Lord Voldemort pointed his wand at the person and the figure fell to the ground.  
          “That’s Professor Longbottom!” cried Albus in surprise recognizing him after he stood up shakily and faced Lord Voldemort.  The hands of the person who would become Professor Longbottom curled in fists and looked defiant.  They stood facing each other.  Then Voldemort waved his wand.  A ragged piece of dark material floated out of the castle landing in Voldemort’s hand.  Then Voldemort pointed the wand at Professor Longbottom; he stiffened and stood helplessly while Lord Voldemort placed the cloth, which turned out to be the old sorting hat, onto Professor Longbottom’s head.  Albus and Holly watched in horror as the hat burst into flames…  
          “There,” cried out Albus suddenly, “the sword!  It’s the help!  Get the sword!  Hurry!”  
          Holly looked around and again saw the red-jeweled sword lying on the ground at Albus’ feet.  She lifted the sword and aimed it at the mirror.  
          “Get it to dad!” shouted Albus frantically.  “Hurry!”  
          “No!” corrected Holly, lifting the sword to point at a place in the mirror that was higher than the still form of Harry Potter.  “He’s not supposed to get it!” Holly said, remembering the painting across from the Defense Against the Dark Arts room.  It had been Professor Longbottom carrying the sword, _not_ Harry Potter.  She aimed the point at the burning sorting hat.  The tip slid easily through.  Holly kept pushing the sword in with all her might until the handle vanished within the depths of the mirror.  
           The two of them, Albus and Holly, glued their eyes to the burning sorting hat, wondering what would happen next.  Suddenly Professor Longbottom moved and the burning hat fell off him.  He reached down to the hat.  Using both hands the Professor drew from within its depths something silver, with a glittering rubied handle…  Then Professor Longbottom lifted the sword high and, with a single stroke, sliced off the head of the huge green snake still sitting on Lord Voldemort’s shoulders!   
          The snake’s head spun high in the air flying straight at the mirror.  Its spinning shape grew larger and larger in the mirror as it drew near.  Then the head seemed to strike the mirror’s surface and the mirror exploded!  Shards of glass and chunks of mirror frame flew straight across the room.  Holly turned and ducked down trying to shield her body.  Then Holly felt something hit her head and everything went black.

 


	20. Chapter 20

          Taylor O’Daniels stared in disbelief at the place where Albus had stood.  He had just vanished!  That wasn’t supposed to happen at Hogwarts!  How had it?  Where was Albus?  Taylor cautiously reached up and touched the heart.  Nothing happened.  He had to get help!  Taylor dropped his things and left the room leaving two yowling cats behind him.   
          “Mrs. Figg!” he called out frantically.  “Help!”  Mrs. Figg was nowhere to be seen.  Taylor raced down one hall and up another looking for Mrs. Figg.  He couldn’t find her anywhere.  Maybe he should be telling Professor Longbottom instead!  Taylor shifted directions and headed towards Professor Longbottom’s room.  
          “Hey!  O’Daniels!  What do you think you’re doing out at this hour!”  Prefect Richards strode angrily towards Taylor.  
          “Richards,” said Taylor with relief.  “I need your help!  Albus is missing!  He just vanished!”  
          “A likely story!” accused Richards.  “You’re supposed to be doing detention tonight!  So, did you and Potter skip out or did Old Lady Figg let you off easy because she’s friends with Potter?”  
          “That’s not it at all,” protested Taylor.  “We _were_ doing detention and then Albus just vanished!  I swear!  I’ve been running all over looking for help!”  
          "Yeah, right!" snorted Richards in disbelief. Richards aimed his wand at Taylor and shouted  _“Petrificus Totalus!”_   Taylor’s arms snapped to his side; his legs sprang together; his whole body went rigid.  He swayed where he stood and then toppled over on his back stiff as a board.  Taylor’s jaws were jammed together; only his eyes moved.  They watched as Richards bent over Taylor.  “Even if Mrs. Figg let you go early,” Richards said angrily, “there is no way my brother will be spending more time at that bathroom detention than you!  Have a nice night!”  Richards vanished from sight.  He returned a few minutes later with a dusty old drop cloth.  He pushed Taylor to the wall at the side of the hall and covered him with the drop cloth.

********************

          Becky was sitting on the sofa in the common room reviewing her notes one last time.  She was just thinking about heading for bed when she heard this fearsome sound!  It  was loud and piercing!  The sound, a cross between a screech and scream, attracted everyone’s attention!  All the students rushed to the girls’ dorm’s side to learn the source of the sound.  The source was easy to find.  Sasha, the gray cat, was sitting on Holly’s bed yowling nonstop.  Everyone stood around the bed and stared at the cat.  Hesitantly, Becky stepped forward.  She’d never seen Sasha like that.  
          “Sasha?  What’s wrong?” asked Becky.  Sasha stopped yowling.  She looked at Becky with her big green eyes and let out a pitiful, plaintive cry.  Becky reached out to touch Sasha but the cat backed away.  “Where’s Holly?” she asked the cat who let out another soft mournful cry.  Where indeed?  Hadn’t Holly already gone to bed?  Yet the bed was empty!  Becky bent down and touched the bed in the center.  It was still warm!  She straightened and turned around to the other students.  “Anybody seen Holly?” she asked the group.  They all shook their heads.   
          “I thought she’d gone to bed,” said Marcy.  “I’m sure I saw her in here earlier.”  
          “Me too,” agreed Becky.  “So where is she?”  Becky turned to Sasha.  “We’re going to find Holly,” she said to the cat.  “It’s going to be O.K.”  Sasha did not look comforted.  She crouched tensely on the bed and continued to make soft mournful cries while watching them.  
          A search of the Hufflepuff dorms and the common room quickly revealed what everyone already knew—Holly was not there.  The Judge confirmed that Holly had come in that night with Mark and Becky, and had not left.  
          “So where is she?” cried Becky extremely worried.  “The way Sasha won’t move makes it look that Holly just vanished out of her bed!”  
          “But that’s not possible!” exclaimed Gwen.  “You can’t just Apparate in or out of Hogwarts!”

********************

          Headmistress Minerva McGonagall had just turned out the light for bed when a knock came on her door.  “Enter,” she said putting on her glasses and tartan dressing gown.  Who could it be at this hour?  The door opened and Erlinda Iverson stood at the entry.  “Can I help you?”   
          “I hope so,” replied Erlinda.  She stooped under the doorway while entering the room and shut the door behind her.  “We seem to be missing a student…”  
          “Indeed,” said Minerva curiously.  “Who?”  
          “Miss Wycliff,” said Erlinda.  She then proceeded to describe how Miss Wycliff had apparently gone to bed with her cat early that night but later the other students heard the cat yowling loudly and Miss Wycliff was nowhere to be found.  “Her bed was still warm when the cat started crying,” Erlinda added.  “We searched the dorm and the Judge confirmed that Miss Wycliff had not left.”  
          “Could she have snuck out with some other students and the Judge didn’t notice?”  
          “Unlikely,” replied Erlinda.  “She’s not that kind of girl.  And she especially would not have left without her cat.”  
          “True,” agreed Minerva.  
          “But I went even further in the search,” added Erlinda.  “Operating on the theory that she was somehow there and we just didn’t see her, I had the students search the whole dorm for anything new, odd or unusual that could have been transfigured, and then sweep the floors in search of someone or something invisible…”  
          “And?”   
          “Well, we found what the students identify as Miss Wycliff’s nightgown wadded up under a sofa in the common room though we’re not sure it’s the one she wore to bed and then we found this,” Erlinda held out a wand and handed it to Minerva.  “It’s Miss Wycliff’s.  It was in the drawer in her bedstand where she usually puts it at night.”   
           Minerva examined the wand briefly and placed it on her desk.  This was serious indeed.  How could a nightgown move unseen from the bedroom to the common room?  And no student would go out willingly without his or her wand. The alternate was that Miss Wycliff had not left willingly…  How was that possible without any witnesses?  But there was one witness… “You say the cat won’t leave the bed?” she asked.  
          “That’s right.  She won’t let anyone touch her and just keeps crying mournfully as if something terrible has happened.”  
          “Well, we shall have to start there,” said Minerva decisively.  “You wake Professor Lovegood and see if she can detect anything unusual about the bed or the dorm.  We need to also look for secret passages or doors in the Hufflepuff house.”  Erlinda nodded.  Minerva continued, “I’ll ask the house-elves to start a castle search on the off chance Miss Wycliff actually did leave the dorm.  I’ll join you at the Hufflepuff house shortly.”  
          “Very well,” Erlinda said and left the room.  
          Minerva sat down at the desk and wrote a quick note.  She handed it to the tiny owl sleeping on the perch next to the desk.  “Take this to the kitchen and give it to one of the house-elves,” she commanded.  “Then come right back here because I’ll have another message for you to take.”  The owl shook its wings briefly and took off in flight.  Minerva sat down and wrote another note and rolled it up in readiness for the owl.  Then she dressed and waited for the return of the owl.  In a few minutes the owl fluttered back.  Minerva handed the owl a treat and wrapped the new message around its leg.  
          “Take this to Number 12 Grimmauld Place,” she said.  “This is an emergency so get there as soon as possible; use the thermal drafts.”  She opened the window in her room and the owl flew out.  Then Minerva headed down the stairs to the Hufflepuff house.

********************

          Harry Potter was in bed asleep when he was wakened by a knock and a thump at the window.  Sleepily, he got up and staggered over to the window.  He opened the window letting in a gust of cold air and a tiny owl.  Harry made his way back to the bed and grabbed his wand.   
_“Lumnos!”_ he said softly.  The wand gave off a soft glow.  Harry used the light to look for the owl.  It had landed on the dresser and hooted softly.  Harry automatically grabbed a few treats out of the dish sitting on the dresser especially for that purpose and handed them to the owl.  He lit a candle and set down his wand.  His fumbling fingers retrieved the message tied to its leg.   
          Harry frowned while he read the message.  “It’s from McGonagall at Hogwarts.  She says that Holly is apparently missing.”  
          Ginny sat up, more awake now.  “How can that be?”  
          “No one seems to know how or why.”  
          “That’s strange.”   
          Harry nodded.  “It is.  I think I’d better go to Hogwarts to see for myself.”  He went over to the wardrobe closet to get his clothes.  Ginny got out of bed and left the room.  She returned with his robe and a thick scarf.  
          “It’s cold out,” she explained handing him the scarf.  “I hope she’s O.K.,” she said worriedly fingering her necklace.  
          “Me too,” agreed Harry.  
          “Harry?”  
          “Yes?”  Harry said while putting on his robe.  
          _“Harry!!”_   There was more urgency in Ginny’s voice.  
          Harry looked over at Ginny.  “What?”  
          Ginny didn’t answer.  Her face had gone very white.  Wordlessly she held up her Healthstone necklace.  One of its three shimmering sections had turned hideously dark.  It looked black in the flickering candlelight.  
          Harry felt the blood drain from his own face as he looked at the necklace.  The color wasn't actually black, he noted with relief, but no one had said anything about Albus!  Why not? Why write a note about Holly and not mention Albus?  Albus surely wouldn't be in the infirmary with a color so dark. Did anyone even _know_ about Albus?   
          “Do you think they’re connected?” whispered Ginny.  
          Numbly, Harry shook his head.  “I don’t know.”  He finished wrapping the scarf around his neck.  “Kreacher?” he called out.  A very old looking bald house-elf dressed in a snowy-white towel with a locket dangling from his chest promptly appeared.  
          “Yes, Master Harry?”  
          “Kreacher,” began Harry looking down at the elf.  “Could you do me a favor?”  
          “Anything,” said the house-elf eagerly.   
          “It seems something has happened to Albus.”  
          Kreacher’s batlike ears drooped with concern.  “Albus is at Hogwarts, sir, what could happen to him there?”   
          “I don’t know,” agreed Harry.  Then he nodded to the necklace in Ginny’s hand.  Kreacher’s look followed Harry’s and his eyes widened when he saw the dark section in the glowing pendant.  
          “This is not good,” he said distressed, “not good at all.”  
          “I agree,” replied Harry.  “Do you think you could find Professor Longbottom and ask him about Albus?”  Kreacher nodded eagerly his ears flapping up and down.  “Also, could you please find Headmistress McGonagall and inform her that I’ll be arriving shortly.  Ask her if she would be good enough to meet me in her office.  Thank you.”   
          Kreacher nodded again and with a loud _crack_ promptly disappeared.  Kreacher was devoted to the kids.  Once he got to Hogwarts, if necessary and it hadn't already been done, he would no doubt organize the Hogwart house-elves into a search of the castle for Albus.  
          Ginny started getting dressed.  “I’m going with you,” she announced.  Kreacher will be back soon.  He’ll look after Lily.  Harry started to nod, welcoming her company, then stopped.  
          “No,” he said regretfully, “I need you to stay here.  Laurel has a Healthstone too,” he explained.  “It’s late; I doubt they’ll notice anything.  Maybe there’s nothing to see, but if there is and they do, she’ll need someone to contact.  Also,” he added, “it might help to know if something has happened to Holly, health-wise.”  Ginny nodded reluctantly.  Harry grabbed his wand and pointed to the doorway _“Accio!”_ he said.  
          “What are you doing?” inquired Ginny.   
          A piece of parchment and a quill floated into the bedroom landing on the dresser.  Harry grabbed the quill and started writing on the paper.  “I’m telling Ron and Hermione.”  
         “You can’t do that,” she protested weakly.  “I’ll be O.K.  It’s late!  You don’t need to bother them.”  
          “Of course you’ll be O.K.,” agreed Harry calmly while tying the note to the owl’s leg, “but you shouldn’t be alone at a time like this.  Ron and Hermione are family!  They’ll want to know.  They’ll want to be with you.”  He took the owl to the still open window.  “The Weasleys,” he stated giving the owl their location.  The owl took off flying into the dark night.  
          Ginny sighed and put on her heavy house robe.  Then she picked up the turquoise colored ADDRESS book with the small purple glass chip that sat on the dresser.  With book in hand, Ginny followed Harry downstairs.  She briefly hugged him good-bye before watching him walk out the door and disappear.   
          Feeling very much alone, Ginny went into the drawing room and placed the book on an end table.  Then she lit the fire in the fireplace.  When the fire was roaring brightly Ginny selected a comfy chair.  She curled up into the chair holding her pendant in one hand and watched the flames.  It was going to be a long night.

********************

          Dillon felt exhausted and he had work to go to the next day.  He and Laurel had just returned very late from a dinner and evening show.  Not just any dinner and evening show, it was dinner and a night at the opera.  Not that Dillon and Laurel particularly enjoyed opera; they had never before attended an opera.  The evening had been his mum’s idea.  
          His mum had won a dinner for two and a night at the opera when she participated in a radio contest and was the 100th caller at which time she told the radio announcer about how much she and her husband adored opera and how it had been their lifelong dream to be able to attend a real live opera…  The announcer was moved to tears and joyfully sent them tickets to the next opera, that was the prize for being the 100th person to call in...  
          Of course, mum and dad had not the least interest in opera; dad vaguely thought operas had something to do with fat ladies singing and mum, well, she was just into entering contests.  So mum pressed the tickets into Dillon’s hands.  “Take them,” she insisted.  “It’ll be good for you and Laurel to get out of the house…”  So Dillon and Laurel had gone to the opera.  Although they hadn’t understood a word said (or sung, for that matter,) Dillon had to admit the costumes were spectacular and the dinner delicious although the proportions _were_ rather small.  
          It was past midnight, definitely past his regular bedtime.  Dillon was glad to finally get out of the stuffy formal clothes he had had to wear all night.  
          “Dear?” said Laurel, “would you mind helping me with this clasp?”  She walked over and turned her back to him so he could get at the clasp of her silver pendant.  The pendant had been Laurel’s pride and joy ever since Holly gave it to her.  It had elicited many compliments from people who saw Laurel wear it both for its unusual design and its shimmering qualities.  Privately, Dillon still thought it was way too expensive a gift but the pendant had looked especially well on Laurel with that low-cut evening gown she had worn tonight.  Dillon unclasped the chain and pulled the pendant away from Laurel.  He glanced at it briefly before handing it to Laurel.  
          “That’s odd,” he commented.  
          “What?” asked Laurel as she closed her hand over the pendant and chain and then dropped them back into its box.  
          “I didn’t think it would tarnish like that.”  
          “What would?”  
          “Your necklace,” explained Dillon.  “It looked great all evening and now…”  Laurel dug the chain back out of the box and examined the pendant.  “See!” said Dillon looking at the pendant over her shoulder. “It’s all dark now.”  
          “I, uh.”  For a moment Laurel seemed positively flustered, then her face turned white as a sheet.  “Oh no!” she whispered.  She staggered over to a chair and sat heavily.  
          “What?” asked Dillon worried.  He had never seen Laurel this way before.  “What is it?”  
          For a long time Laurel didn’t answer, she just stared at the pendant.  Dillon stared at the pendant too, not knowing why he was looking at it.  Finally, in a very soft whisper, Laurel spoke.  For the first time Dillon heard the word Healthstone and learned all about the true nature of Holly’s gift…   
          The darkened pendant took on new meaning for him, cold and sinister.  He should have never let Holly go off to that Hogwarts!!!  No good could ever come of _that_ school!  It had been bad for Harry and it was bad for Holly.  He should have never let her return after Christmas!  Holly had been fine at Christmas!  They should have left well enough alone.  Now, it was too late!  “What’ll we do now?” he asked desolately.  
          Laurel thought a moment then she went over to the dresser and pulled out a turquoise ADDRESS book.  Dillon had seen it in her drawer, he’d even thumbed through it.  He had considered it of no importance; the pages were all blank.  But now Laurel grabbed a pen and started writing in it.  Dillon looked over her shoulder and read:

_**My Healthstone is black!!!  What do we do?** _

          Laurel closed the book and sat staring at it, waiting.  
          Suddenly, the purple glass chip lit up.  Laurel opened the book and read.  Dillon looked over her shoulder.  Laurel’s writing had completely vanished.  Instead, there was a response to her question in a completely different handwriting.  It read: 

_**Black? Or just very dark?** _

          Laurel grabbed the Healthstone and took it under the light.  “What do you think?” she asked Dillon.   
          He peered at the stone trying to evaluate the color.  “Definitely a dark purple,” he concluded.   
          Laurel wrote in her book:

_**Dark purple** _

          She shut the book and again waited.  A few seconds later, the purple chip lit up again.  Laurel opened the book.  As before, Laurel’s words had vanished to be replaced by:

_**Holly is alive, but she is missing.  Harry has already gone to Hogwarts to investigate further.** _

          As they watched, new letters formed on the line.

   
**_Would you like company while you wait for more news?_ **

          Laurel looked at Dillon, questioningly.  Dillon shook his head.  Bad enough that his precious daughter was missing but to have to share their grief and pain with _them_ …  Laurel penned her response.

_**No, thank you.  Please keep us informed.** _

          Laurel shut the book again and set it down.  “What do we do now?” she asked Dillon as she sat down on the bed.  She held the pendant in her hand staring intently at its darkened side.  
          Dillon sat down besides her.  He put his arm around Laurel’s waist and held her tight, all thoughts of sleep forgotten.  “We wait,” he answered.  Harry Potter had always come back from Hogwarts no matter what happened there.  Hopefully, Holly would too.

********************

          Professor Neville Longbottom got dressed quickly.  Kreacher’s message had been most disturbing.  Kreacher seemed to think Albus was seriously injured but Neville had not gotten word of any injuries.  Kreacher tended to exaggerate a lot, but he had come on Harry’s orders, which meant Harry was concerned too.  Very concerned.  This was a school night.  Albus had been in class all day, had detention in the evening and class afterwards.  When had he had _time_ to get injured?  Neville looked at the clock.  It was past midnight.  Albus should be in astronomy by now.  Neville would check there first.  Maybe something had happened there…  
          Neville made his way to the grassy area where Professor Firenze taught his astronomy class.  The stars twinkled brightly overhead making it a beautiful night.  Neville could hear Professor Firenze’s clear calm voice lecturing on the importance of the changing sky.  The students all gathered around him while seated on puffy pillows snuggling under warm blankets.  Neville stood by the side of the students and waited to be recognized.  Professor Firenze hated to be interrupted.  Neville looked through the group for Albus and did not see him, but in the dark, Neville couldn’t be sure.  
          Presently Professor Firenze came to an end of his concept.  He looked over at Neville and said, “May I help you?”  
          “Excuse me, Professor Firenze,” began Neville politely, “but I need to see Mr. Potter.  Is he here?”  
          “I was given to understand that both he and Mr. O’Daniels are serving detention and couldn’t make class.”  Neville could tell Professor Firenze was annoyed.  Professor Firenze, like most instructors, himself included, believed his class too important to be missed, and certainly, not due to detention.  “The stars do not bode well for him tonight,” Professor Firenze added.  
          Neville nodded.  “May I speak to Miss Weasley for a moment?”  Professor Firenze nodded to Rose who promptly got up and walked over to talk with Neville.  Neville walked Rose away from the group so they would make less of a disturbance.  Professor Firenze gave the rest of the class sky observation instructions.  
          “What is it?” asked Rose, worried.  
          “When was the last time you saw Albus?”  Neville asked her.  
          “Right after dinner,” replied Rose.  “He and Taylor gave me their books and things for class tonight so they wouldn’t have to fetch them later.  Then they went off to detention.  Why?  Is anything wrong?”  
          “So they didn’t come to class?”  
          “No sir.  When they didn’t show, I assumed they were still in detention.  Aren’t they in detention?”  
          “Most likely,” assured Neville, “but I thought I would check here first.  There’s probably nothing to worry about.  You get on back to class.”  
          Neville left the astronomy class and walked swiftly back to the castle.  Mrs. Figg had assured him that the boys would finish in time for class.  That they apparently hadn’t was unexpected.  They could have run into all sorts of unanticipated difficulties. Maybe a trophy case had fallen on them...  
          Neville ran into Mrs. Figg in the corridor on the way to the trophy room.  “Are the boys still in detention?” he asked her worriedly.  
          “Of course not!” exclaimed Mrs. Figg.  “I told you they’d be done before then.”  
          “Yes, you did,” agreed Neville.  “But did you see them leave?”   
          “No,” admitted Mrs. Figg, “but when I checked the trophy room, it was empty.  The room looks pretty well cleaned but the cleaning supplies are still scattered around.  I figured they were running late and rushed out as soon as they got the basics finished.  I was on my way to the Fat Lady to wait for their arrival after they come in from Astrology.  I planned to remind the boys that they’ll have to spend more time tomorrow finishing up…”  
          “The boys never arrived to Astrology,” said Neville bluntly.  
          “What!” exclaimed Mrs. Figg.  “But that’s impossible!  Where could they be?”  
          “That’s the question.  When did you last see them?”  
          “Around 10 pm,” replied Mrs. Figg.  “They were both in the trophy room working hard.  Snowball and Poopsey stayed with them.  I had my rounds to make so I left them.”  
          “Are Snowball and Poopsey still in the trophy room?”  
          “They were,” admitted Mrs. Figg.  “They were both pretty upset when I returned, but I figured it was because the boys had left without my permission first.  I’d have gotten back sooner but Peeves set off an exploding ink bomb in the middle of the library and I was helping Madam Pince clean up.  How could they have not gotten to Astrology?”   
          “I don’t know,” replied Neville, “but I think I’d better let Headmistress McGonagall know what’s happened; we may need to start a full scale search.”  Mrs. Figg nodded worriedly.  “Maybe you could search the trophy room,” suggested Neville. “Perhaps they left some sort of clue or message as to their whereabouts.”  Mrs. Figg nodded and turned back towards the trophy room.  Neville headed upstairs to find McGonagall.

********************

          Headmistress McGonagall and Professor Lovegood were in the office waiting when Harry Potter arrived.   
          “Hello, McGonagall,” greeted Harry warmly shaking hands.  
          “Potter,” replied Headmistress McGonagall.  
          “Hello Luna.”   
          Professor Lovegood nodded at Harry’s greeting.  “Harry,” she said.  She was wearing a purple satin robe with glowing yellow eyes sewn around the edges.  The eyes on the robe blinked randomly.  Three pale pink and blue butterfly clips pulled back her blonde hair. Luna's over-sized colored green tinted glasses with the chartreuse frame made her eyes look even bigger.  One of the butterflies fluttered off her hair and landed on the eyeglass frame tipping it to one side.  
          “So,” Harry began, “what have you learned?”  
          “Not much,” replied Headmistress McGonagall.  
          “It’s all very odd,” said Luna.  She straightened her glasses, brushed the butterfly back onto her hair and then looked at Harry.  “I would think Miss Wycliff had been kidnapped by Wringlesplints except they always leave a track of aqua glitter and there is none on the cat.”   
          Harry looked at McGonagall for further explanation.  “It’s like she never left but she isn’t there!” continued McGonagall.  “There’s no sign of a struggle, no sign of any recent magic use of any kind.  All the students swear she was there earlier and no one saw her leave. The bed was still warm…  And the cat—”  
          “What about the cat?” asked Harry.   
          “The cat looks devastated!” explained Luna. “I’ve never seen anything so pitiful.  She won’t leave the bed at all and does nothing but cry mournfully!  Maybe Miss Wycliff was turned into a Farin Wraith—they always make people so sad when they pass.  That could explain the cat…”   
          “We’ve done a castle search too,” added McGonagall, “and didn’t find a thing.  I haven’t the slightest idea what to try next.”  
          A soft knock sounded and the door opened.  Neville entered the office.  “Oh, good,” he said relieved when he saw Headmistress McGonagall. “You’re already up.  Harry,” he added turning to Harry. “I don't know what's happened!  I can’t find him anywhere.”  Harry nodded, that was almost to be expected.  “We’re going to have to do a proper search,” continued Neville.  
          _“Him?”_ said McGonagall sharply.  “About whom are you talking?”  
          “Albus Potter,” said Neville.  “Isn’t that why you’re all here?  I got a message something was wrong with him.”  
          “Ginny’s Healthstone went dark,” said Harry to the group by way of explanation.  “She checked after we got word about Holly.”  
          “No!” whispered Luna, the lenses in her chartreuse framed glasses seemed to shimmer and turn pale blue.  Two of the butterfly clips flew up and around landing in a new location on her head pulling her hair back in a different position.  
          “ _Two_ students missing?” said McGonagall wonderingly.  “What is going on?”  
          “Miss Wycliff is also missing,” explained Luna noting Neville’s confused look.  “Do you think the two could be connected?”  
          “I don’t think you’ve got your numbers right,” corrected Neville.  “It isn’t two students but _three!_ ”  
          McGonagall stiffened quickly.  “What are you saying?” she asked clutching her heart.  
          “I think Taylor O’Daniels may also be missing!” replied Neville.  “At least he and Albus never made it to Astrology,” he added.  “They were last seen doing detention in the trophy room around 10 pm.”  
          “Miss Wycliff was noted missing at around 11 pm,” put in Luna, her lenses had returned to the light green tint.  The third butterfly flew off her head and landed on a shoulder clipping itself to her robe.  “Rather, that’s when her cat started crying.”  
          “Cats!” said Neville.  “There were two cats with the boys in the trophy room.  Mrs. Figg said they were pretty upset when she returned.”  
          “Maybe we should take a closer look at the trophy room,” said Harry.  
          “…and talk to some cats,” added Luna.  “Perhaps they can tell us more.”

********************

          Mrs. Figg met them at the entry of the trophy room.  “I’m so sorry Harry,” she said wringing her hands anxiously.  “I didn’t know they were missing, I thought they had gone on to class!”   
          “It’s O.K., Mrs. Figg,” replied Harry Potter.  “You couldn’t have known.”  He looked around the room.  “What are we looking for?” he said in general.  
          “There’s nothing here,” replied Mrs. Figg.  “I’ve already looked.  Everything looks the same, except cleaner.”  
          Luna ignored the room and instead knelt down and looked at the cats.  Her glasses made her eyes look big and imposing.  Both cats were yowling and pacing anxiously.  “Hello, Snowball and Poopsey,” she said conversationally.  “Did you see what happened to the boys?”  The cats stopped pacing but continued to yowl softly.  Luna removed her glasses and tucked them away in her robe.  Her silvery eyes stared intently at the cats.  “Have you seen any Wringlesplints?”  The cats continued to yowl.  
          “Why don’t we try retracing their steps,” suggested Neville walking around the room.  “What were they supposed to do, exactly?” he asked Mrs. Figg.   
          “They were supposed to clean all the display cases and the items within,” replied Mrs. Figg.  “O’Daniels was cleaning the cases and Potter worked on the trophies.  They started over at this display case,” said Mrs. Figg, walking over to one of the cases.  “You can see it’s been cleaned.”  Everyone but Luna looked at the case.  Yes, they agreed, it looked sparkling clean.  
          “Do you know where Albus is?” asked Luna still looking at the cats.  Her butterflies had rearranged themselves on her head again.  The cats continued to yowl and started pacing again.  “Did any Farin Wraiths float by?”  The cats stopped pacing but continued to yowl.  
          “…And then they moved over to this case,” continued Mrs. Figg drawing their attention to the next case, “and I left after they started that one.  They were making pretty good progress.  I was sure they would finish before class…”  
          “Do you know where Taylor is?” asked Luna.  Snowball spun in a circle and raced out of the room.  Luna stood up.  “I think I may have something,” she announced.  “I’m going to follow Snowball.”  She left the room with a swish of her lavender robes quickly hurrying to catch up with the cat.   
          Everyone else remained in the trophy room looking about.  “Was there anything else?” asked McGonagall.  “There has to be something!”  
          “You can see all the trophy cases have been cleaned,” said Mrs. Figg.  “They left the place a mess, but they were done cleaning!”  
          “So something must have happened after they cleaned and before they put things away,” mused Harry.  “Are you sure you didn’t tell them to do anything else?”  
          “No,” said Mrs. Figg.  “The cases were plenty to do.  And when they were finished, I told them to—oh yes, the walls!  I asked them to clean off the walls too!  You know, get the dust and cobwebs off.”  
          Everyone’s gaze moved over to the walls.  
          “Have they all been cleaned?” asked Neville moving up to a wall for a closer look.  They spread out, all staring intently at the walls.  
          “I’ve found Mr. O’Daniels!” announced Luna triumphantly returning to the room with a young boy at her side.  “You just have to know the right question to ask,” she added.  Her blonde hair hung down limply on one side as two of the butterflies fluttered behind trying to catch up.  Snowball padded proudly in behind Luna pausing to swat one of the butterflies that threatened to land on its back.  
          Taylor O’Daniels was dusty and dirty from head to toe.  His white face was smeared with mud where his tears had mingled with the dirt.   
          “Mr. O’Daniels!” exclaimed McGonagall.  “What happened?”  
          “I found him under some covers,” said Luna. “It seems Prefect Richards decided to practice _Petrificus Totalus_ outside of class.  He was a little angry that his brother had to do detention.”  
          “I tried to tell him,” began Taylor, “but he wouldn’t believe me, honest!”  
          “Tell him what?” asked Harry, afraid of what he would hear.   
          “About Albus, sir.  He just vanished!”  
          “Vanished?” asked Harry, “Where?”  
          “I don’t know where?  He just disappeared!  I didn’t know what to do so I tried to go for help and, and, and then he wouldn’t believe me!”  Taylor’s lower lip trembled and he looked like he was trying hard to not cry.  
          “Why don’t you tell us the whole story,” spoke Neville encouragingly.  “Start from the beginning.”  
          “We were sweeping the walls, sir,” Taylor began speaking directly to Harry, “and I found this plaque with your name on it!”  
          “I didn’t know you had anything in here with your name on it,” spoke Luna.  
          “I didn’t either,” replied Harry distractedly, his whole focus was on Taylor.  “Go on,” he encouraged.  
          “Well you do!” argued Taylor.  “It’s got your name, and Ginny Weasley’s name…”  
          “Ginny’s!” interrupted Harry sharply.  
          “…and, and somebody I never heard of before, a Tom, Tom somebody…”  
          “Tom Riddle?” whispered Harry almost fearfully.  
          “Yes, that’s the name!” replied Taylor eagerly.  “You’ve heard of it?”  
          “Yes,” said Harry faintly, his blood turning cold at the very thought of the name.  
          “Well, we’d never heard of the name so I was showing the plaque to Albus,” continued Taylor, “and Albus was looking at it.  Then he reached out and touched it and—I didn’t think anything of it, sir, after all, I had just finished polishing it myself but when he touched it, he, he—” Taylor broke off.  
          “What happened?” asked Luna gently.  
          “He just vanished!”  
          There was complete silence in the room as everyone considered this.  Finally Harry spoke.  “I think we had better see this plaque, Taylor.”   
          “Yes, sir.”  Taylor walked back behind one of the cases to a wall they hadn’t yet examined.  “It’s over here, sir,” he said,  “Funny,” he said looking at it, “I had it all cleaned and polished before.”  Instinctively, he reached up to clean it again.  
          “Don’t—” Harry stepped forward to stop him.   
          But Luna placed her hand in front of Harry restraining him.  “We already know whatever it is won’t affect him…” she whispered.  Harry stopped and waited for Taylor to finish.  
          “There, see!” announced Taylor stepping back, “It says “Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter and Tom Riddle; Now and Forever.”   
          Harry and Luna moved up to look at the plaque.  “Tom Riddle,” mused Luna staring at the plaque, “on that last day, didn’t you use that name when you confronted Lo—”  
          “Yeah,” cut in Harry briefly.  He, too, was staring at the plaque.  His green eyes glowed weirdly in the polished reflection.  
          “I never thought he used that name,” came Neville’s voice from behind him.  
          “He did, once,” said Harry, distracted.  “During my second year…”  He reached up to touch the plaque…  
          Luna’s wand swung up and sharply struck Harry’s hand away from the plaque.  “Don’t touch it!” she commanded sharply.  “It’s cursed!”  The pain seemed to wake Harry from his trance.  He stepped away from the plaque but continued to stare at it.  “You hardly knew Ginny existed your second year,” continued Luna, “and Ginny, she was so tongue tied she barely said two words to you that whole year.”  
          Headmistress McGonagall moved up and looked at the plaque carefully not touching it.  “Thank you very much, Mr. O’Daniels.  You’ve been very helpful,” she said while still staring at the plaque.  "It’s very late.  I think you should be getting to bed…” she added dismissing him.  
          “But what about Albus?” asked Taylor anxiously.    
          “We’ll take care of things now,” assured the Headmistress, “and, while I am sure James Potter and Miss Weasley will be interested to know what has happened this night and, perhaps, should be told,” she glanced at Harry for confirmation; he nodded his agreement, “there is no reason to alarm the other students so I would ask you to please not mention any of this to the rest of them.”  
          “Yes ma’am,” said Taylor and he reluctantly turned to leave.   
          _“Petrificus Totalus_ can be really exhausting on the muscles,” commented Neville as he moved up looking at the plaque briefly over Harry’s shoulder. “Mrs. Figg, would you be so kind as to escort Mr. O’Daniels up to the infirmary for a muscle tonic before seeing he gets safely back to the dorms?”  
          “Of course,” said Mrs. Figg, anxious to do whatever she could to offset her earlier mistake.  
          Taylor then left the room with Mrs. Figg.  The two cats trailed after them.

********************

          “Well,” said Luna as soon as the two were gone.  Her voice suddenly became very business like.  “It is certainly a cursed trap of some sort.  And a rather strong one at that,” she added abruptly striking Harry’s hand away from it a second time.   
          Harry looked at his hand in surprise and then at Luna.  “Sorry,” he said apologetically.  “I can’t seem to stop myself.”  
          “But who would do something like this?” questioned McGonagall.  “And to target someone like young Potter?”  
          “Judging by the look of things,” speculated Luna striking Harry’s hand away a third time, “I’m not so sure it targeted Albus as it was his bad luck to be caught by it first.  Neville,” she added calmly noting how Harry’s hand had already begun to snake out again, “perhaps you should keep Harry out of reach of the plaque while we discuss things.”  
          “Right,” agreed Neville physically pulling Harry out of reach of the plaque.  
          “Perhaps I should touch it,” argued Harry still staring at the silver heart, “then I would find out where Albus is.”  
          “Wrong,” stated McGonagall firmly.  “Then _you_ would be missing too.  A trap this strong on the outside is likely to be stronger still on the inside.  There would be no guarantee you could get yourself or Albus out afterwards, even _if_ you found him.”  
          “I’m willing to risk it,” said Harry.  “It’s better than standing here and doing nothing.”  
          “Fortunately, that is not your decision to make, Potter,” said McGonagall.  “I am not going to let you or anyone else trip this trap again and vanish.”  
          “But I think someone else _has_ tripped this trap,” commented Luna.   
          “You can’t mean Miss Wycliff?” stated McGonagall in disbelief.  Luna nodded.  “But she was nowhere near the trophy room!” McGonagall protested.  
          “True,” agreed Luna, “but perhaps, once activated, this curse was powerful enough to draw both children somehow.  There are certain similarities that cannot be discounted.  Two students vanishing within an hour of each other; both of them Potters by blood, both,” she pointed at the polished plaque which still showed Harry’s eyes weirdly glowing on its surface even though Harry was nowhere near the plaque, “with very green eyes…   
          “No!” whispered Harry in horror, the lure of the plaque forgotten.  “What have I done?!  I promised him it would be safe; that there were no more problems with Lord Voldemort; that Hogwarts would be the best place for his little girl; that we would take care of her... And now this!”  
          “It’s got to be destroyed,” said McGonagall.  
          “We can’t do that!”  Harry buried his face in his hands.  “What’ll happen to the children if we destroy it?”  
          “Hopefully they’ll turn up afterwards,” said McGonagall.  “I don’t like this any better than you do, Potter,” she continued, “but this is far too dangerous to let remain unattended; we cannot risk more lives.”  
          “No!” argued Harry lifting his face from his hands.  “Riddle was only after me!  There is no risk to the other students.  Maybe, maybe Ginny—maybe she can be made to remember! Maybe with her we can find some way to get through without destroying it.”  
          “What does Ginny have to do with all of this?” asked Nevil.  
          Harry took a deep breath.  “Ginny,” he began, “opened the Chamber of Secrets that year.  She didn’t mean to,” continued Harry quickly.  “She was bewitched by a cursed Diary that Tom Riddle created fifty years earlier.”  
          “You mean that little black book she was always writing in?” asked Luna.  
          “That’s right,” nodded Harry.  “The more she wrote in it, the more power she gave to the diary.  After the diary took control, Riddle had Ginny doing all sorts of things she could not remember doing afterwards—the writing on the wall, the blood...  This plaque must have been one of them.  Ginny’s always said she could never remember what all she did for Riddle, but maybe there is a way to get her to remember—there _must_ be a way…”  
          “Very well,” said McGonagall reluctantly.  “We will put off destroying it for now.  You get Mrs. Potter here and see if she can remember anything…  In the meantime, I’ll cast some repellant spells to insure no one comes near this room, including you, Potter.”  
          Harry nodded.  He left the room to go find an owl.  He hoped Ginny would be able to remember something, but he doubted it, Tom Riddle was too skilled.  Harry could not let the plaque get destroyed without first trying to rescue the children.  If need be, he was sure, Kreacher could find a way into the room for him…

********************

          Luna and Neville caught up with Harry Potter as he walked.  “I wonder if I could transfigure my eyes so they would be green instead of silver,” speculated Luna as they walked.  
          “And the way you kept on trying to touch it.  Maybe touching it is the way it gets the right person…  We could turn a lock of your hair into a finger so the touch would be correct…” added Neville.  “Whereas one person would only trip the trap…”  
          “…maybe three together can find a way back out,” finished Luna.  
          Harry looked at both his friends and felt choked with emotion.  “Thanks,” he said gruffly.  “I may take you up on that…”  
          Luna and Neville continued to keep pace with Harry as he walked.  They went downstairs and out the doors to the owlry.  “When are you going?” inquired Luna when they entered the owlry.  
          Harry looked up, “What?”  He considered lying as they waited for an answer, but they knew him too well.  “As soon as I send an owl to Ginny,” he admitted.  
          “You don’t think Ginny will remember anything?” asked Neville.  
          “No, we’ve already tried,” replied Harry.  “She was always afraid she’d done more things than we knew.”  He scribbled a quick note and picked out a snowy owl to deliver it.  “Waiting for Ginny will only buy me some time to get in there.”  He held the owl up,  “Take this to Number 12 Grimmauld Place,” he commanded to the owl.  The owl spread its huge wings out and took off into the night.  
          “That doesn’t leave us much time,” commented Luna.  
          “Maybe we can just hold hands and we’ll all vanish together,” suggested Neville as they walked back to the castle.    
          “That won’t work,” replied Luna.  “Miss Wycliff was on her bed the time she vanished.  Her cat remained behind.  They were surely touching.  Let me see your eyes for a minute,” she said pulling Harry to a stop.  She stared intently into his eyes then turned to Neville.  Waving her wand she said: _“Morphidicus Verde!”_  She stared intently into the now green eyes of Neville.  Satisfied, Luna turned the wand on herself.  In a few seconds her silvery eyes also turned green.  
          “Now, for some hair…” Luna reached over and grabbed a handful of Harry’s hair from the back of his head.   
          “Ow!” protested Harry.  “Don’t pull so hard!”  
          “Hold it steady,” commanded Neville.  He pointed his wand between Luna’s hand and Harry’s head.  _“Illium Prunella!”_ he said.  After a few sparks the handful of hair broke away from Harry’s head leaving the faint odor of singed hair behind.  Neville smiled at the results.  “Works well for trimming vines too,” he commented.  
          The hair was carefully divided into two parts.  One part was balanced onto Neville’s forefinger.  Harry watched while Luna used her wand to cause the black hair to curl around Neville’s fingertip like a glove eventually changing to flesh color blending in with the regular finger.  
           “Where do you learn this stuff?” asked Harry, impressed.  
           “One has to keep one step ahead of the students,” replied Luna serenely working with the hair on her own finger.  “It also helps if you keep Vanets for pets,” she added.  “They like a different coat every time the weather changes.”  Neville rolled his eyes behind her back and shook his head in disbelief.  “How are we getting in the room?” Luna asked when she had finished wrapping the hair onto her finger.  “Kreacher?”  
          “Yeah,” agreed Harry.  “I’d better call him—KREACHER!” he shouted.  With a loud _crack_ the small elderly elf suddenly appeared.  He couldn’t have been far away.  
          “Did you find him, Master Harry?” he asked anxiously.  “We house-elves searched everywhere and couldn’t find a thing!  Did you also know Miss Holly was missing too?  They haven’t been able to find her either!”  
          “Yes, Kreacher, we know,” replied Harry quietly.  “But we think we may know where they are.”  
          “You do?” said Kreacher excitedly.  His ears went up.  “Where?”  
          “In the trophy room.”  
          “They’re not there, Master Harry, we already looked,” replied Kreacher downcast.  
          “I know,” said Harry, “but we believe the key to finding them is in the trophy room.  Do you think you could transport all three of us inside the trophy room?”  Kreacher nodded eagerly.  “Careful though, there may be some repulsion spells in place.”  
          “Kreacher knows how to avoid such spells,” said Kreacher confidently.  “Hang on!”  He held out his arms.  Obediently, Luna, Neville and Harry grabbed a hold of Kreacher’s arms.  And Harry felt the familar sensations of being pressed hard in all directions--being squeezed ever smaller and smaller--sensations that came with Apparating.  A few seconds later, he was standing with the others in the trophy room.  The trophies gleamed and sparkled in their cases; the room was ominously quiet.   
          “Thank you, Kreacher,” said Harry.  “Ginny will be arriving shortly.  Could you go be on the lookout for her?  Let her know where we are.”   
          “Yes, sir, Master Harry.” With another loud _crack,_ Kreacher vanished from the room.  
          “Right, then,” said Harry walking towards the plaque.  It no longer seemed to call him as it had.  “Best get on with it.  Wands out?”  
          “Ready,” replied Luna and Neville following Harry to the wall.  Their wands were extended in one hand and each held out a finger as they reached towards the wall.  
**_“POTTER!_**   I forbid you from touching that plaque!”  All three froze.  The voice had come from Headmistress McGonagall.   
          Harry glanced around.  He saw McGonagall standing in a corner of the room.  “How did you know?” he asked.  
          “There is no repelling spell strong enough to keep you out of a place you wish to be, Potter,” began McGonagall.  “And if there were a way to make Mrs. Potter remember events in her first year, you would have already found it by now.”  She moved forward.  “It’s still cursed,” she reminded Harry.  “It’s too dangerous.  You don’t know what will happen!”  
          “I have to try!” insisted Harry.  “As long as there is a chance they’re alive.  I have to try.  You’re not my Professor, now,” he added.  “This is a risk I freely take.”  
          “And you two?” said McGonagall addressing her words to Neville and Luna.  “You both are in my employ.  If I forbid you to participate in this foolish and dangerous activity?”  
          Luna looked at McGonagall with her huge now-green eyes.  “Dumbledore’s Army,” she said simply.  
          “Harry has a better chance of success if we can manage to go with him,” added Neville.  
          Harry returned his attention to the plaque.  He could see his eyes glowing weirdly in it now.  Next to them were two other sets of weirdly glowing green eyes.  “On the count of three,” he said reaching out with his finger, clutching his wand tightly with his other hand.   
**“One— two—”**

 


	21. Chapter 21

          “Holly, wake up!” the voice kept on repeating over and over again.  Holly didn’t want to wake up.  Something inside her knew that oblivion would be preferable to waking up.  But there was an urgency about the voice that wouldn’t let her sink back into unconsciousness.  “Come on, Holly, wake up!” the wheezy voice pleaded.  
          Holly moaned; her head began to throb.  “Ow!” she said.  “My head!” she spoke.  She felt dazed and confused.  Where was she?  What had happened?  Why did she hurt so?   
          “Oh, good!  You’re awake,” said the scratchy voice with relief.  “Can you come over and untie me?  Just follow my voice.”   
          Untie?  Barely awake, Holly tried to make sense of the words but her pounding head made it hard to think.   
          “I’ve got my wand in my back pocket,” continued the voice.  “If you can just get to it…”  
          Wand?  What on earth???  _Albus!!!_   The memories flooded back in a rush: Albus, Harry Potter, the sword, the snake…  “What happened?” asked Holly, gasping.  It was hard to breathe.  Her head continued to pound and she could feel sharp spiky sensations in her chest that she decided must be broken bones.  
          “The mirror broke,” replied Albus.  His high scratchy voice sounded about the way Holly’s throat felt.  Holly was surprised her own voice didn't sound scratchy at all.  “Could you come over and untie me?”  Albus repeated his earlier request taking quick breaths between words.  He seemed to have difficulty breathing too.  
          Holly turned over to get up.  Her body landed with a loud thud that shook Holly into forgetting her head.  “I didn’t feel that!” she said in a panic.  “I can’t feel anything!  I think I’m paralyzed!”  
          “Block!” ordered Albus.  “You’ve got to block!”  His words came out between quick panting breaths.  
          _“Block?”_ thought Holly, the word sounded familiar but she couldn’t place it because of her headache.  
          “You’ll hurt less,” Albus added confidently.  His words came out slowly in between short gasping breaths.   
          Hurt less.  That sounded good.  “How do I block?” asked Holly while struggling to breathe.  It felt as if her chest was constricted by tight bands and her head hurt so she couldn’t think clearly.  
          “I don’t know!” responded Albus in frustration.  “You’re supposed to know!  You’re an Empath, remember?”  
          Right!  But she didn’t know how to block.  She never could.  “I can’t block,” Holly said in a small voice.  Tears streamed down her face.  She was so scared.  Holly couldn’t see; couldn’t feel her arms or legs; her head hurt; sharp stabbing pains randomly shot through her chest and it was so hard to breathe!  Holly felt so helpless.  
          “You’ve got to,” insisted Albus in that raspy voice.  “If you can’t do it, we’re stuck in here forever!”  Suddenly Holly heard the sound of something large falling and landing with a resounding crash somewhere nearby.  It was followed by the sound of several other smaller pieces falling and bouncing on the stone.  The clatter echoed loudly in the room.  What air she could get was suddenly filled with dust causing Holly to cough uncontrollably.  “Maybe we have less than forever,” gasped Albus when the sound finally died away.  His scratchy voice shook as he spoke.  “I think the room is falling apart.  Come on, Holly,” he added encouragingly.  “I know you can do it, just do whatever they’ve been telling you to do and _block!”_  
          “But I can’t—” Holly’s voice died away.  “But it doesn’t work,” she finished lamely.  Albus was right, though.  She _had_ to block.  At the moment Holly couldn’t even move; some of the pain she was feeling had to be Albus' but Holly could not begin tell which was which.  With blocking maybe things would be better.  If she couldn’t block, they were stuck.  Holly had the rest of her life, however long or short that might be to figure it out.  
          “What are you supposed to do?” wheezed Albus.  
          “Huh?”  
          “Tell me what you are supposed to do,” whispered Albus, his breath came in short gasps.  “Maybe I can help.”  
          “Uh, Madam Pomfrey said to duplicate the warm feelings I felt when Sasha was nearby.  I’ve been trying that all along and I can’t.”  
          “Anything else?”   
          “Professor Lovegood suggested humming.”  
          “So hum!”  
          Holly closed her eyes and tried to hum.  What song?  She couldn’t think of a tune.  Something easy.  Holly found herself thinking of a lullaby her mum used to sing. How did it go?  The effort was useless.  The incessant pounding in her head kept interfering.  “I can’t!” Holly cried.  “I just can’t concentrate!”    
          “So try something else!”    
          “There isn’t anything else!” Holly complained.  The sound of a huge rock crashing down interrupted their conversation.  More dust filled the air making them both cough for several minutes.  It hurt to cough and the dust made the breathing even harder!  
          “There must be!” Albus insisted when he finally stopped coughing.  Every word came out weak and scratchy.  “Maybe something you haven’t tried before...”   
          “The other Empath said I must exert my own personality,” answered Holly after she managed to supress her own coughing, “but I don’t know what that means!”   
          “So tell me who you are!”  
          "Huh?"  
          "Exert your personality,"  Albus explained further between wheezes.  "Tell me who you are!"  
          "You know who I am!" protested Holly.  
          "Not really," argued Albus.  He took several wheezy breaths before adding, "We only met last fall. You're still pretty much a st- _(cough)_ -ranger!  So who are you?"  Another _CRASH_ sounded loudly.  More dust filled the air.  
          “I _(cough)_ am Holly _(cough)_ Wycliff.”  
          “Did that help?”  
          “No!”  The dust seemed to have finally settled.  Holly tried to take a deep breath.   
          “So what else?” persisted Albus between gasps.  
          “Huh?”  
          “There is more to you than a name,” wheezed Albus.  “Tell me about yourself.”  
          “What do you want me to say?”  Holly was having a hard time focusing.  
          “Anything.  Just keep talking!”  
          “Well, I am eleven years old,” began Holly in between gasps for air.  Her words came out slowly.  It was so hard to breathe!  “And I have a mum and a dad and a brother and we live in a four bedroom house with a yard in front...”   
          “Go on,” encouraged Albus.  
          It was difficult to concentrate and talk.  “I have my own bedroom and a beautiful cat,” continued Holly reaching for random words.  Talking didn’t seem to help much, but Holly didn't know what else to do and it was easier than trying to focus on music.  
          “And…”  
          At Albus’ insistence, Holly rambled on. “... And I hate Kippers, but love oatmeal and chocolate and cake and starry nights..."  As she continued, Holly discovered that If she spoke slow enough, she could manage to breathe and still talk... "...And singing, and snowball fights, and a cheerful fire in the fireplace, and hot chocolate, and everyone around the dinner table and, and I want to go home _so bad!…_ ”  Holly started to cry.  Thinking about herself made Holly remember all the things she missed so much.  Most of all, Holly missed her parents.  When Holly closed her eyes, she could almost see them—almost hear mum singing that lullaby, almost feel dad’s strong arms wrapped around her in a tight hug—Holly opened her eyes.  The room was totally dark and in the dark Holly could imagine her parents were still there holding her tight--keeping her safe and warm.  _“_ …and I’m _loved!”_   As she spoke Holly could feel a cushion of her parents' love surrounding her almost shielding her— _“I ... am ... Holly ... Wycliff!”_   This time when she spoke Holly knew that no matter what nothing would change that fact or the love she had for her parents, for Becky, for Sasha or their love for her…  Suddenly Holly could breathe again, and she could feel her arms and legs twisted painfully on the floor, feel the sharp bits of glass digging in them, and—secure in herself, Holly could now sense the pain in others without it affecting her…   
          “Oh, Albus!” Holly exclaimed with real concern scrambling up to reach him, her headache forgotten.  Holly reached out for the chair next to her, felt for Albus' arm and worked her way over to his chest.  “Why didn’t you say something?” Holly said while she tried to find a way to loosen the straps.  It was Albus who couldn’t breathe properly!  
          “The ends are at the bottom,” he wheezed.  “Hurry!”  
          Holly found the ends but they refused to yield at her touch.  She pulled out Lily’s wand.  _“Lumnos!”_ she cried.  The wand gave off a gentle glow.  Albus looked pale blue in the light.  Holly ignored him and instead focused on how to release the straps.  The light went out _“Diffindo!”_ Holly shouted.  There was a loud _crack_ and a flash of light.  Holly pocketed her wand and again reached for the straps.  This time, with part of the chair blasted away, the straps came apart freely.   
          Albus took his first decent breath of air.  “Ow!” he said as he tried to breathe in.   
          “You’ve kind of got some broken ribs, too,” informed Holly.  
          “I’ll manage,” Albus said weakly.  “It’s just nice to be able to breathe again.”  
          “Why didn’t you tell me?” Holly asked again while she felt around for the straps holding his arms.   
          “No point,” replied Albus.  “I didn’t know how badly injured you were but I knew what you’d be feeling from me when you woke, if you woke, and that was bad enough!”  Holly managed to unwrap one of the arms.  She sensed a slow tingle spreading through the arm.  Albus’ arms and legs had been so tightly wrapped for so long that he literally had no feeling left in them.  No wonder Holly hadn’t been able to feel a thing when she tried to move!  She started unwrapping the other arm.   
          “I didn’t dare lose consciousness for fear neither one of us would wake up,” Albus continued while moving his free arm and fingers experimentally.  “And when you did wake, I knew we were lost if I couldn’t get you to block…  Dad explained it all to us over the Holidays—what you could feel and how it almost got you killed during the summer.”  Albus wiggled the fingers in his other hand slowly as Holly got the straps looser.  “That head injury you complained about is all yours, by the way,” he added.  
          “As is the sprained ankle,” agreed Holly.  She had also discovered an assortment of cuts and bruises all over her body that made their presence known once Albus’ numbness had vanished.  “I know the straps weren’t this tight before,” commented Holly remembering how things were when she first entered the room.  “What happened?”  
          “They tightened up even more when the mirror exploded,” Albus replied weakly.  “No doubt a parting gift from Tom Riddle, whoever he is.”  
          Holly hesitated.  Then she spoke. “Tom Riddle is another name for Lord Voldemort,” she said quietly while she worked.  She could feel Albus stiffen at the mention of his name.  “At least that’s what he wrote with his wand when he and Cousin Harry were together,” Holly finished.  “I don’t know how they can both be the same person, but they are, I mean, they were.”  She released the other arm and knelt down to undo the straps at his legs.  
          Albus was quiet a while.  Then he spoke.  “I’m glad you didn’t tell me before.”  
          Holly nodded in the dark.  “I can’t get these undone.” she commented talking about the straps binding his legs.  “I’m going to have to blast the chair again.”  She pulled out Lily’s wand again.  _“Lumnos!”_ she said holding the light only long enough to get the direction.  Holly held the wand close to the chair before letting the light go out. She wanted to be sure to get the straps not Albus. _“Diffindo_!” she shouted.  There was another flash and a loud _crack._   Holly put away the wand and went to work on the straps.  They came apart easily and Holly could sense more tingling as blood started circulating through Albus' legs.  She started massaging his legs to increase the blood circulation.  
          “I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk any time soon,” commented Albus.  Pain flooded through his body as both hands and feet gradually came to life.  _CRASH!_   Down went another stone landing loudly near them sending dust and rubble onto the floor.  _CRASH!_   Another block fell landing loudly on the other side!  
          “I don’t think we have much of a choice if we want to get out of here,” coughed Holly abandoning the legs and reaching for an arm.  “Any ideas on how to get out of here?”  Tugging hard Holly managed to pull Albus’ arm onto her shoulder and drag him out of the chair.  
          “Not really,” he replied wincing as his cracked ribs sent sharp stabs of pain throughout his body.  
          “Sorry,” muttered Holly settling Albus’ arm more securely over her shoulder.  
          “Did you see any door?”  
          “No.”  
          “Well,” panted Albus, “you bumped into my right side.  And that’s the side of the chair I touched first before it caught me…  Maybe there is some sort of hidden entrance on that side.”  
          Holly pulled out Lily’s wand with her free hand.  _“Lumnos!”_ she shouted.  Using the light, the two slowly made their way around the fallen blocks to the wall on the side.  _CRASH!_   Another block landed with a thud right in front of them!  The two detoured around it.  The stones had begun to fall faster…  
          Holly stopped and set Albus down when they reached the wall.  She held up her wand to look at the wall closely.  “Now what?” she asked.  “I don’t see any entrance at all.”  
          “I guess we’ll have to hope that maybe the wall is thinner there than anywhere else,” said Albus.  He reached awkwardly behind him.  Holly heard a soft clatter.  “Darn!” Albus muttered.  “I can’t, uh, could you get my wand for me?  My hands don’t work too well.”  Holly came back to Albus, bent down, found the wand and placed it in his hand.  She wrapped his fingers around it.  “I figure,” Albus began, “it’s going to take both of us to get that wall down.  Any ideas of a spell to use?”   
          “Well, I did read of one while I was in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Class during practice time…  It sounded rather interesting…”  Another two blocks came thudding down with thundering crashes.   
          “I think now would be a very good time to try it,” coughed Albus.  Another block crashed down!  The dust in the air thickened.  “What is it?”

**_“Bombardia Maximus!”_ **


	22. Chapter 22

          Harry Potter shouted _**“THR—”**_    
          The plaque on the wall exploded outward with such force that it knocked Harry, Neville and Luna flat on their backs.  Their wands flew out of their hands.  
          “Look!” said Headmistress McGonagall excitedly before they had had a chance to recover.  “There’s a hole behind the plaque!”  As Harry, looked up, a puff of dust drifted out of the hole.  
          “Hello?” came a small voice from inside the wall.  “Is anybody there?”  
          “Holly?” called out Harry wonderingly getting to his knees.  “Is that you?”   
          “Dad?” wheezed another small voice.  “You’re alive!” the voice said joyfully!  
          “Albus?  THEY’RE ALIVE!” Harry shouted to the others.  Relief washed over him like a tidal wave.  
          “Hurry!” spoke Holly urgently.  “Get us out of here!”  
          Harry, Luna and Neville scrambled to their feet.  All four wizards, McGonagall included, eagerly examined the tiny heart shaped hole that still had dust pouring out.  
          “Careful,” said Neville studying the hole again after he had retrieved his wand.  “We don’t want to risk pushing the stones backwards.  Using their wands, they enlarged the hole, brick by brick severing each brick from its mortar and then removing it.  The whole time they could hear other stones crashing from within making their task all the more urgent.  Finally, the opening was large enough for Luna to reach through and bring out one of the children.  
          “Take Albus first,” insisted Holly.  “He has some broken ribs.”   
          Over Albus’ protests he was pulled through the hole.  Harry reached out and took him from Luna.  Albus clung to Harry sobbing in his ear the whole time.  “You’re alive!  You’re alive!” he kept saying.  
          Luna pulled out Holly next.  As Holly’s legs were being dragged through the hole a loud rumble sounded.  Huge blocks of stone fell behind the opening landing where Holly and Albus had been moments earlier.  When the dust cleared the opening the wizards had created remained.  But beyond, through the opening, Harry could only see the interior of the study hall on the other side of the trophy room!  The enclosure, which had held Holly and Albus, had vanished!

 ********************

          “Are they O.K.?” asked McGonagall worriedly.  
          Harry Potter looked intently at Holly and Albus.  Both children were pale and dirty.  They each had dark circles under their eyes betraying lack of sleep.  Albus had numerous bloody cuts on his face and hands and a huge gash that sliced through his cheek.  Holly’s robe looked like it had been slashed to ribbons.  She had several cuts too and a large lump on her forehead.  Though serious, all of it could be put right easily after a visit to Madam Pomfrey.  “They seem to be,” he said to McGonagall.  
          McGonagall pointed her wand at the door.  From its tip came a silver cat with spectacle markings around its eyes.  The cat raced out the door filling the hallway with a silvery light as it moved.  “That will let Professor Iverson and the Hufflepuffs know that Miss Wycliff has been located,” she stated.  “Professor Longbottom, would you be so good as to inform Mr. James Potter, Miss Weasley and Mr. O’Daniels that young Mr. Potter has been found safely as well?  No doubt they’ve been worrying.”  Neville nodded.  “Afterwards, please join us in the infirmary as I am sure you would like to hear more about tonight’s experiences.”   
          “I’ll let Mrs. Figg know, too.”  Neville added as he left the room.  
          While still regarding the children with wonder and relief Harry spoke to McGonagall softly,  “With your permission,” he began, “I think we had better get them up to the infirmary to be checked out.”  He shifted Albus to a more comfortable position in his arms.   
          McGonagall nodded.  “I’ll meet you there shortly.  I still have this room to seal up.  I trust you won’t be trying to make another unauthorized entrance tonight.”  
          “No,” agreed Harry faintly while staring at the hole in the wall where the plaque once had been.  “I won’t.”  He turned, carrying Albus, and headed out the door.   
          Luna, with Holly still in her arms, followed.  “Your robe looks shredded,” commented Luna serenely to Holly as they walked.  “Did the Wringlesplints do that?”  Luna’s butterfly clips had shifted position again and one had latched onto Holly’s hair pulling it back and out of Holly’s face.  
           “No,” replied Holly softly.  “I expect it was the exploding mirror that did it.  But it wasn’t in all that great of condition before…”  
          _“Exploding mirror!”_ thought Harry.  That explained the cuts and scratches but not the broken ribs. Nor did it explain why Albus had been so relieved to see him _alive_.  Harry longed to ask more questions but decided it would have to wait.  He didn’t want to make the children explain things twice.  They walked up to the infirmary in silence.  
          “I suppose you should let Ginny know her services will no longer be necessary,” commented Luna calmly as they walked.  
          “I, uh, yes, you’re right, I should,” replied Harry.  He had forgotten all about Ginny in his relief to find the children alive.  “KREACHER!” he called out.  There was a loud _crack_ and the familiar house-elf was instantly at his side.  Holly looked silently down at Kreacher with very wide eyes.  
          “Yes, sir, Master Harry?”  Kreacher looked up at Harry.  “Oh, you found them sir, very good!”  Kreacher’s huge ears flapped up and down excitedly.  “Were they where you thought?”  
          “Yes, Kreacher,” said Harry.  “Has Ginny arrived yet?”  
          “Yes, sir, Master Harry,” replied Kreacher.  “She is in Headmistress McGonagall’s office waiting.  She didn’t know whether she should join you in the trophy room or not.”  
          “Would you please let her know that the children have been found and are being taken to the infirmary?”  Kreacher nodded.  “Oh, and please thank all the house-elves for their help in looking for them.”  
          “Yes, sir,” replied Kreacher cheerfully.  With another loud _crack_ he vanished.  
          “So that’s what a house-elf looks like!” exclaimed Holly after Kreacher had left.  “I’ve been wondering about that for ever so long a time.”   
          Harry looked at Holly thoughtfully as they continued walking.  “It’s very late,” he began.  “I know your mother has a Healthstone, but I don’t know if they noticed anything wrong.  I wouldn’t want to disturb them unnecessarily at this hour…”  Holly nodded silently as they continued up the steps.  She wanted very much to be with her parents too, but didn’t know if she should wake them up only to worry them after the fact.  
          They had reached the top of the steps when a third loud _crack_ announced the return of Kreacher.  This time he was holding a small lavender ADDRESS book in his hands.  
          “Mistress Ginny said to give this to you,” he said handing the book to Harry.  
          Harry’s eyes lit up in recognition and smiled warmly while he took the book with his free hand.  “Thank her for me, please, Kreacher.  That was very thoughtful of her.”  Kreacher nodded his head up and down, his long ears flapping and his eyes shining.  “Then could you let Ron and Hermione know everything is O.K.?  They should be waiting at my house.”  With a nod of his head and another loud _crack_ Kreacher vanished.  
          “Holly,” began Harry cheerfully as they walked into the infirmary, “I think your very worried parents would like to hear from you…”

********************

          Not knowing what else to do, Dillon and Laurel sat on the bed and waited, staring at that ever so dark pendant.  Occasionally, Dillon would look at the clock and watch the minutes tick by but mostly he stared at the pendant.  Laurel alternated her looks between the pendant and the ADDRESS book as if willing it to light up.  After a while, Laurel got up and made a pot of tea pouring out a cup of hot liquid for each of them to drink.  The steaming cups cooled with their contents untouched.  Neither one felt like drinking.  
          Around 12:30 a.m. the color of the pendant lightened considerably.  What did that mean?  Neither of them knew but felt heartened by the color change.  Around 1 a.m. the purple light on the ADDRESS book lit up.  Laurel grabbed the covers and opened the book.

_**Holly is fine!  I don’t know the details, but she is being taken to the infirmary!** _

          And like that, the weight of the universe lifted.  Dillon and Laurel hugged each other, sobbing in relief.  They didn’t know what had happened, didn’t really care.  There would be time for questions later.  Suddenly, they both felt very, very tired.  Laurel put the ADDRESS book on the dresser and they both changed quickly for bed.  
          “Look!” said Dillon as he was turning out the lights.  The light on the ADDRESS book was lit again.  Dillon left the lights on and instead reached for the book.  He opened it—

_**Hi mum and dad!  I’m fine!  Everything’s O.K.** _

_**Love, Holly** _

          “It’s Holly!  She’s written us!”  Laurel looked over Dillon’s shoulder and read the message too.  “Where’s your pen?” asked Dillon in a shaky voice.  He found the pen and scribbled a message in the book, quickly, before he thought about what he was doing.

_**Are you really O.K.?** _

          Dillon shut the book as he had seen Laurel do.  Then he stared at the book, waiting for it to light up as it had done before.  A few minutes later the purple chip lit up.  Dillon opened the book.

 _**Is that really you, daddy?  I’m so happy!  Yes, I am fine.  I just have a sprained ankle and some cuts and bruises.** _  
_**It’s nothing, really.  I can’t wait to see you again!  I have so much to tell you!  I’ve gotta go now—they’re calling** _  
_**me.  I miss you and mum so much!** _

_**Love, Holly**_

          Dillon stared at the message a long time.  Finally he scribbled his own message beneath it,

**_We love you too, baby._ **

and shut the book.  Harry had always come back from Hogwarts changed; Holly would be changed too, but maybe not in ways that were important.

********************

          A while later everyone was seated comfortably around Albus’ bed.  The children had been cleaned; cuts and bruises healed.  Harry Potter sat next to Albus.  Albus clung tightly to Harry’s hand refusing to let go even now.  Neville and McGonagall pulled up chairs nearby while Luna sat cross-legged on a neighboring bed.  The yellow eyes on her lavender robe blinked sleepily.  Her hair hung straight; all three butterfly clips fluttered in the air seeking new places to land.   
           Next to Luna on the bed sat Holly.  Holly had refused to lie down in the bed.  In Holly’s lap curled one very happy cat.  Sasha appeared at the infirmary soon after Madam Pomfrey had begun her examination of Holly.  The cat had streaked through the infirmary doors like a gray rocket on fire and landed on Holly’s lap digging her claws in refusing to leave.  No doubt Becky or someone had let Sasha out of the dorms as soon they received word that Holly had been found.  Holly’s delight at Sasha’s presence was unmistakable. Then Madam Pomfrey insisted Sasha be returned to the dorms as Holly was still supposed to be learning to block.  
          “But I can block now,” protested Holly.  “So can she stay?”  
          “You can?” said Madam Pomfrey raising an eyebrow with a look that said she would talk about this with Holly later…  
          “Uh-huh,” Holly replied.  “Albus helped me.”  
          “Mmm…” said Madam Pomfrey noncommittally while she rubbed ointment in Holly’s cuts making them heal quickly.  “So tell me what is wrong with Albus?”   
          “A bunch of broken ribs,” replied Holly promptly, “but they’re healing now.  And his arms and legs are still tingly so I think he needs something to improve blood circulation.”    
          “Anything else?”   
          “Well, his throat is scratchy and he’s pretty thirsty,” added Holly absently more interested in her cat.  “So Sasha can stay, can’t she?”  
          “What about you?” continued Madam Pomfrey ignoring Holly’s question.   
          “Me?  Oh I just have that bump on my head and a sprained ankle,” replied Holly.  “It’s nothing, really.  Please????” Holly begged.  
          “The cat?  Well, I suppose, for tonight,” said Madam Pomfrey grudgingly, “but after that, we’ll see.”  
          “Thanks,” said Holly with a smile and she buried her face in the loudly purring cat while Madam Pomfrey examined and treated her swollen ankle.  
          Ginny arrived at the infirmary and gave both Albus and Holly a tearful welcome.  Knowing the events of the evening somehow involved Tom Riddle and Ginny’s first year at Hogwarts, Headmistress McGonagall permitted her to remain to hear Albus’ tale.  White-faced, Ginny sat down next to Harry.

********************

          “Well,” began Albus, “I didn’t mean to touch the heart, but I just couldn’t stop myself.”  Both Harry and Holly nodded knowing the compulsion they had felt around the heart.  Harry squeezed Albus’ hand reassuringly.  “And then suddenly, everything went all dark and I was someplace else.  My wand wouldn’t work and I couldn’t see anything.  So I put my wand away and tried to feel around to see if I could figure out where I was.  I bumped into something hard and the next thing I knew I was being pulled into this chair.  I tried, but I couldn’t get out!  I couldn’t even get to my wand!”  Albus stopped.  His face looked panic stricken as he remembered that chair.  
          “It’s O.K.,” said Luna soothingly.  “It’s all over now.  You’re O.K.”  
          “Go on, Albus,” encouraged Harry softly.  “I know this is hard, but you’ll feel better afterwards.  I guarantee it.”  
          “Well, then the lights came on and this guy in wizard robes appeared in front of me—black hair, black eyes and a really cold voice.”  
          “Tom Riddle,” whispered Harry chilled by the thought of his return.  
          Albus nodded.  “That’s what Holly said too, but I didn’t know that then.  The man said, _“Hello, Harry Potter, surprised to see me?”_  
          “No!” whispered McGonagall.  
          “Go on,” encouraged Luna softly.  
          “Well, I tried to tell him that I wasn’t Harry Potter, but he just kept on talking saying stuff about a rematch and how mum,” Ginny clutched the arms of the chair tighter and held herself stiffly erect at his words, “and he had fixed it so I, meaning dad, was going to _die_ this time…”  
          “I don’t remember any of this,” whispered Ginny, her face white and her eyes wide.  
          “This was not your mother’s doing, Albus,” assured Harry firmly.  “Tom Riddle enchanted a diary that was given to your mother,” Harry explained.  “The diary bewitched your mum and forced her to do all sorts of things that year, things she never remembered afterwards.”  
          “Why didn’t we hear about this?” asked Neville.   
          “I was ashamed!” whispered Ginny, “and so afraid of being expelled.  Even with the diary as proof people might have believed I did all those things on my own.”  
          “Dumbledore and McGonagall knew the truth,” added Harry quietly.  “And as we knew the Chamber of Secrets would bother no one again, we never mentioned Ginny’s involvement.”  
          “What happened next?” asked McGonagall.  
          “Well,” continued Albus, “the guy talked about some _help_ you would need that would come to me in the chair instead of you out there and the next thing I knew he had vanished and there was this huge mirror thing in front of me.”  Holly reached over, poured a glass of water and handed it to Albus.  “Thanks,” he said briefly and took a drink. “In the mirror," he continued, "I could see this huge cavern.  You were there, dad, and mum, and this Riddle guy.  Mum, you were on the ground.  I thought you were dead!”   
          Ginny nodded.  “The Chamber of Secrets,” she whispered, her face was very pale.  
          “And dad,” continued Albus, “you were talking to Riddle, but I couldn’t hear any of the words.  All of the sudden you started running and there was this huge basilisk chasing after you!”  Harry also nodded, his face pale, remembering.  “And then, this sword!”  Albus choked on the words.  
          “It’s O.K.” soothed Luna.  “Everything’s O.K. now.”   
          Harry again squeezed Albus’ hand reassuringly.  "What happened next?" he asked encouragingly.  
          Albus took another gulp of water and set the glass down on the side table before continuing.  “This sword appeared on the floor in front of me," he began, "and, and the basilisk got you in his mouth and bit down and kind of _shook you_ —” Albus broke off and rubbed his eyes clearly trying to keep from crying.  “Then the room got all dark again,” he whispered, “and I had this awful empty feeling in the pit of my stomach and I felt all light headed like I didn’t belong.  I knew I was going to die alone in that room but I didn’t care because there was no reason to live; I had killed you, dad and I didn’t want to live!  It was horrible!”  
          “It didn’t happen that way,” corrected Harry quietly in the silence that followed.  “I got the sword of Griffindor and used it to kill the snake.  I’m not dead,” he assured Albus squeezing his hand again tightly, “and you haven’t killed me.”  Albus looked up at Harry, clearly reassured by his presence.  
          “How did you get out?” asked McGonagall changing the subject.  
          Albus gulped some more water before speaking.  “Holly walked in,” he said simply.   
          Everyone looked over at Holly who was sitting quietly stroking Sasha.  Holly looked up around the room and realized they were expecting her to say something.  “Uh,” she began, “I saw the heart and just had to touch it…”  She stopped speaking and looked back at Albus.  It was his story to tell.  
          “I was so upset about dad.  I didn’t realize she was there at first,” admitted Albus. “But when she bumped into the chair I screamed at her to get away.  And she managed to not get caught by the chair.  I think that was partly because I was already in it.  Then lights came on again and Tom Riddle appeared again!  When he started saying the same words over I realized maybe we had a chance to fix things.”  Albus stopped to take another sip of water.  Then he continued.  “Sure enough, the mirror showed the same scene with dad, mum and Tom Riddle.  And the basilisk came after dad again.  When the sword appeared, Holly got it into the mirror.”  
          “Into the sorting hat,” murmured Holly.   
          “You grabbed the sword and killed the basilisk!” Albus finished looking at Harry.  Harry nodded his face lost in the recollection.  
          “What happened next?” asked Neville  
          “Well, the room got all dark again.  After a few minutes, the light came on and the Mirror showed us the outside of Hogwarts castle.  Lord Volde—Volde—”  
          “Voldemort,” finished Holly quietly.  
          “Yeah,” agreed Albus, “well he was in front of this procession and Hagrid was carrying you, dad!  You looked dead, but Holly said it must be some sort of trick or we wouldn’t be able to see you in the mirror.”  
          “It was,” agreed Harry quietly.  
          “Well, everyone in the castle came out and you,” Albus said looking at Professor Longbottom, “came out and stood in front.  And the Sorting Hat went on your head and started burning… That sword appeared again and Holly got it in the mirror…”  
          “In the Sorting Hat again,” added Holly softly, still stroking her cat.   
          “And you pulled out the sword and chopped off the head of the snake sitting on Lord Voldemort’s shoulder!  I never expected that!” finished Albus.  
          “Me neither!” agreed Holly.   
          “I didn’t think I could do it!” admitted Neville, his face lost in his own memories.  “But Harry said I had to get the snake so I tried.”  Headmistress McGonagall looked from Neville to Harry for further explanation but none was forthcoming.  
          “Well, the snake’s head went spinning in the air right at us!” Holly added.  “And when it seemed to touch the mirror, the mirror exploded!  That’s when we got all these cuts and bruises,” she explained.  
          “After that, the lights went out again,” said Albus.  “And I think Holly was knocked unconscious.  I waited forever for her to wake up.  When she did, she used her wand to get me out of the chair.  And we both went over to the wall where we had entered and tried to blast our way out…”  
          “The room was falling apart,” added Holly, “and we weren’t sure that blasting would do any good.  We were sure glad you were waiting for us on the other side.”  
          “As am I,” said Harry remembering the empty hole where the room had once been.  Had they not been there in time to get them out the rest of the way… “Have you anything else to add, Holly?” he asked changing the subject.  
          “No,” she replied.  Everyone but Albus looked at Holly in surprise but no one said anything.  Albus seemed content with Holly's answer.   
          “Where did you get your wand?” asked Luna casually.  
          Holly shrugged.  “I sort of found it,” she mumbled not adding any details.  Holly knew the adults were looking at her strangely again but she was determined to not say any more.  
          “I’m kind of tired,” Albus commented in the silence that followed and he yawned.  
          “Speaking of tired,” added Luna, “I have to teach tomorrow.  If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll try to get some sleep before class.”  She got up off the bed.  “I’m glad everything turned out all right,” she said as she collected her three butterfly clips, one had perched in Holly’s hair, one in Sasha’s fur and the last was clipping up the bed sheet.  “Happy endings are so much nicer.”  
          “I need to get some rest, too,” added Neville rising also.  “It’s been a long night.”  The two professors exited.

********************

          Harry Potter slipped his hand from Albus’ grasp.  Turning to McGonagall he asked quietly, “Would you mind if Holly and I had a word together?”  McGonagall nodded her consent.  “Holly?” said Harry standing and reaching for Holly’s hand.  “Would you walk with me please?”  Ginny took over Harry’s chair and took Albus’ hand in hers.  Holly obediently slipped off the bed.  Sasha jumped onto her shoulder.  Harry moved away from the beds and Holly followed.  The two walked down to the end of the infirmary where they could speak in private.  There was a large window at the end of the infirmary.  Harry and Holly stood at the window looking out at the starry sky and the ground below.  
          “You vanished from your bed from a secure dorm without a trace,” said Harry without emotion.  “I am sure the story of how you got from there to the trophy room is no less interesting than the tale Albus told.”  Holly said nothing.  Harry pondered the possible reasons for her silence.  “Is it perhaps something you did not wish to say in front of Albus?”  
          Holly nodded slowly.  Then she said, “He was so devastated when he thought you were dead.  When I came into that room I became so sad I wanted to kill myself!  Even now, the very thought of what he might have done—” Holly broke off.  “If Albus knew what really happened,” she continued in a rush, “that it was more than a mirror showing pictures...”   
          Harry listened to her words without comment.  He gazed out at the stars a while thinking about what Holly had said.  Finally, he spoke.  “May I see your wand?”  
          Slowly, Holly drew out the wand from her pocket and handed it to Harry.  Harry held the wand carefully and examined it in the starlight.  It felt oddly familiar but it was _not_ the wand she had gotten at Ollivander’s.  He wondered about that when Luna had asked the question.   
          Harry considered the wand thoughtfully.  “Hagrid told me about the problems Miss Smith had with her wand,” began Harry turning the wand over in his hand, “and how they had to make a special trip to Ollivander’s to get her another wand.”  Holly said nothing; she just stared intently out the window.  “It would be most unusual,” continued Harry calmly,  “to find a wand just lying around for use, especially a wand that works so well for a first year student...  Where did you get the wand?”  
          Holly was silent for so long that Harry was afraid she wouldn’t answer.  Finally, she spoke in a low voice.  “Headmaster Snape gave it to me.”  
          “Headmast—” Harry broke off.  Snape was dead!  How could he have given her anything?  Harry considered the ramifications of her words.  What _had_ happened to her while Albus was in that room?  “Is this _his_ wand?” he asked looking at it again, forcing himself to accept her words as truth.  
          “No, sir,” replied Holly in that same low voice. Then she added in a whisper, “It’s your mum Lily’s.”   
          Lily’s!  That would explain the familiar feel.  But Lily’s!  Given to Holly by Snape?  Was it possible?  “Did you hear what Tom Riddle said to Albus?”  
          “Yes sir,” replied Holly in a small voice.  
          “What, exactly, did he say?”  
          “He said something about turning time backwards and fixing it so you could watch yourself die,” came the answer.  
          Turning time!  Was it possible?  Of course it was possible!  He and Hermione had turned back time the very next year to save Sirius.  Could Tom Riddle have found a way to turn time?  Dumbledore described Tom Riddle as an unusually talented student with powers that were surprisingly well developed.  So perhaps he had.  Would Riddle turn back time?  Why not?  Unlike Voldemort, the Riddle from the diary had no soul to split; turning back time would have been a way to insure his continued existence.  Had Riddle done it?  Harry turned Lily’s wand over in his hand.  It would seem he had.  How else would Holly have met Snape and gotten this wand?  
          “That mirror was more than just a scary window showing the past wasn’t it?” Harry stated quietly.  Holly nodded silently. Tears were streaming down her eyes. “It _was_ the past!” concluded Harry softly,  “And I actually _did_ die, didn’t I?”  
          “Headmaster Snape said that Harry Potter vanished along with two Weasley students after the Chamber of Secrets opened.”  Holly’s voice trembled as she spoke.  “And they were never found.”  
          Harry stared blankly out the window.  If Riddle’s spell hadn’t rewound time once again when Holly entered the chamber, he would be a distant memory.  Harry shivered.  “You say Headmaster Snape gave you this wand?” asked Harry finally as he handed the wand back to Holly.  
          “Yes, sir,” replied Holly tucking the wand back into her pocket.  
          “Do you know why?”  
          “He said he thought I might need it.”   
          “I’m guessing but you only met briefly, am I correct?” asked Harry.  Holly nodded slowly.  “Do you know _why_ he decided to help you?”  
          “I think so, sir,” said Holly softly watching the stars twinkle outside.  “He loved your mum very much.”    
          “That is a secret Headmaster Snape shared with only one other person,” replied Harry quietly.  “Albus Dumbledore.  And Dumbledore told no one.”   
          Harry looked down at Holly, who still stared resolutely out the window.  He sighed.  “I have no doubt that you have had one terrifying day which you would rather forget,” Harry began gently,  “But I think you should tell your story and not keep it bottled up.  You’ll feel better afterwards," he assured Holly.  "I know.”  Harry paused a moment letting Holly think about that.  Then he added,  “There is another reason I want you to tell your story.  It is because you have met Headmaster Severus Snape.”  Holly looked up at Harry in surprise.   
          Now it was Harry’s turn to look out the window, finding it difficult to meet Holly’s eyes.  “Severus Snape,” began Harry, “was one of the supporters of Lord Voldemort—until Lily died.  Then he swore to help protect me, for Lily’s sake.  This was a dangerous task.  He worked in secret—publicly opposing Voldemort, privately pretending to support Voldemort and all the while giving Dumbledore information on Voldemort’s activities.  Professor Snape, for he was one of my professors at Hogwarts at the time, Professor Snape and I did not get along at all.  You see,” confessed Harry, “though I have Lily’s eyes, the rest of me look like my father James.  Dad was a bit of a bully towards Severus Snape during their school days.  When Snape saw me, he saw only the bully he hated.  But he kept his word and did everything he could to help protect me from Voldemort.  Even with his dying breath he was doing what he could to help me.”  
          “For Lily’s sake,” murmured Holly.   
          “Yes, for Lily’s sake,” agreed Harry soberly.  “I never knew.  I was convinced that Snape was actually working for Voldemort despite Dumbledore’s assurances to the contrary.  It was only after Snape’s death that I found out what he had done, what he had risked to help me,” finished Harry softly.  Then he added, “and I never had a chance to apologize or say thank you.”  The two stood silently for a while watching the world outside.  
          Then Harry said quietly, “I want Albus to hear your story too.  I understand your concerns,” he added quickly when Holly started to protest.  “Albus did not set that trap or cause my death; Tom Riddle did.  Albus’ll figure that out eventually.  It is more important that he hear about Headmaster Snape.”  Harry took a deep breath.  This was painful for him to say.  “I didn’t like Severus Snape,” he said softly.  “One of the bravest men I ever knew; he risked everything for me and I _didn’t like_ him.  None of us did.  Snape played his part too well.  I can’t tell Albus anything about the man who did so much for us because all my memories of him are so—hateful.  You can give him a different picture.  You can tell us both about the man Headmaster Snape really was.  Will you do that?”  
          Slowly, Holly nodded.  She put her hand in Harry’s and the two walked back to the beds.  Albus was fast asleep with Ginny sitting besides him.  McGonagall also sat nearby quietly, awaiting their return.  Holly climbed up on her bed again.  Sasha curled up on her lap.  
          Harry reached out and shook Albus gently.  “Albus, wake up,” Albus stirred.  
          “Can’t it wait?” protested Ginny.  “He’s so tired.”  
          “I don’t think so, no,” replied Harry.  “We need to do this now.”  He continued to shake Albus.  “Albus, wake up—it’s important!”  
          Albus opened his eyes sleepily.  He gave a start and then saw Harry and relaxed.  “Oh, dad, you’re here!” he smiled.  “I had this horrible dream where I was trapped and you were dead…”   
          “No, Albus,” corrected Harry gently.  “It wasn’t a dream; it was a terrible nightmare and it was all very, very real!”  Albus’ eyes widened in fear.  He was wide awake again; all his previous terror returned.  “You need to listen to Holly’s story,” Harry continued softly while ignoring Albus’ reaction.  Albus looked over at Holly sitting on the other bed, her head bent, stroking her cat.  “Her story _ends,_ when she stepped into that room with you.  It begins, I think, at the moment you saw that basilisk kill me…”  
          Everyone looked at Holly.  Holly lifted her head and stared at a blank place on a curtain looking at no one.  She took a deep breath and began to speak.  Her voice was soft, but clear.  Her lips trembled a bit.  “I woke up this morning when I fell off my bed…”

********************

          When Holly finished, tears were streaming down Albus’ face.  But they were not tears for the father he thought he’d killed, but for the man who had knowingly given up everything that they might live…

********************

          “An actual _Time Reverse Curse!_ ” said McGonagall quietly to Harry after Ginny had again tucked Albus into bed to sleep.  Holly had consented to lie down in her bed.  The covers were pulled up but her eyes were wide open, watching, and she continually stroked her cat, which lay stretched out at Holly’s side.  “I’ve only read of such a thing as speculation.  I’ve never heard of it actually being done.  But then, how could I; it should have been undetectable!”  McGonagall glanced over at Holly.  “How do you suppose she escaped its effect?”  
          “Dumbledore!" replied Harry promptly.  If anyone could have done it it had to be Dumbledore.  
          "Dumbledore?  But he's dead!"  
          "I know!" said Harry with frustration. "But he wasn't dead when Ginny got that diary," reminded Harry. "And can you think of anyone else powerful enough to have done something like this?" McGonagall shook her head.  "No one could have cast a protective spell _after_ Riddle's curse was enacted," reasoned Harry with more confidence. This really wasn't his field of expertise but he was fairly certain Holly's parents would have never met if he, Harry had died... Harry took a deep breath collecting his thoughts and then continued.  "My friends cast all sorts of spells surrounding my family, Holly's father and grandparents, to protect them when they went into hiding," he began cautiously.  "Doesn't it make sense that Dumbledore did the same when I first went there to live with them?" He was rewarded by a slow nod from McGonagall.  Encouraged, Harry continued. "Those protective spells were there before Riddle cast his curse and they must have been strong enough to withstand and protect the family from Riddle's spell."  
          "But that was over twenty years ago!" protested McGonagall.  "And Holly wasn't even born then!"  
          Harry took off his glasses and wiped an imaginary speck of dust of a lens.  "Maybe Dumbledore's spells protected the whole _family_ not individuals," Harry said speculatively.  "The spells would have been easier and faster to cast that way don't you think?  My aunt and uncle might have decided to have more than one child.  A family kind of spell would have included any _future_ children so Dumbledore wouldn't have to return to cast more spells..."  
          "Perhaps," agreed McGonagall thoughtfully.  "But Holly isn't a second or third child...:"  
          "True," admitted Harry.  "But she _is_ directly related to my aunt and uncle by blood.  That makes Holly part of the family.  The spells Dumbledore cast must have somehow protected her as well...otherwise..." Harry's voice trailed off, unwilling to verbalize what might have happened.  "It's only a guess, of course," Harry finished putting his now spotless glasses back on.  "Have you a better idea?"   
          "No," admitted McGonagall.  "And in all honesty, I don't suppose it matters, not now.  But a _Time Reverse Curse!_ ” she exclaimed with indignation.  "How could Riddle dare?  How could he have done such a thing?!”   
          “I can’t say I’m really surprised,” commented Harry dryly.  “The Voldemort I knew wanted immortality; the desire was probably there in his youth, as well.  Tom Riddle enchanted that diary with his sixteen year-old personality.  Of course the Riddle in the diary tried to guarantee its own immortality as well...  And if Holly hadn't been protected as she was," Harry stopped.  The alternative was too much to contemplate.  "We’ve been very lucky tonight,” he concluded simply.  
          “We have indeed,” agreed McGonagall grimly.  She looked at Harry.  “Are you ever going to tell me what Voldemort was up to, what you did that last year and the thing you had to find?  It’s been almost twenty years—”  
          “I know, but no, I won’t,” replied Harry calmly.  “Believe it or not what Voldemort did was just as bad if not worse than Tom Riddle’s plan.  Let it die with him.”   
          McGonagall nodded.  She hadn’t expected Harry to explain.  He hadn’t in 20 years, but it never hurt to ask.  She looked over at Holly. Harry followed her glance.  The girl hastily closed her eyes, feigning sleep.  “Why do you suppose he did it, helping her like that?” McGonagall asked, changing the subject.  
          “Who?  Headmaster Snape?”  McGonagall nodded.  Holly had left out the parts about Lily in her narrative saying only that Snape noted her resemblance to Lily and realized she must be related to Harry.  Nor had Holly said whose wand she had received from Snape.  Lily had been Snape’s secret; even with him dead, Holly did not reveal it.  Harry had not objected to her decision.  It was the one thing Snape had never wanted anyone to know.  “Maybe Dumbledore was right when he said Snape regretted his earlier support of Voldemort,” replied Harry finally.  “He saw a chance to remove Voldemort and took it.”  
          “Hummph!” snorted McGonagall  “I think there may be more to Snape than meets the eye.  Maybe I should have a long talk with his portrait one of these days.”  
          “Do that,” encouraged Harry.  “Snape has probably done much more than we give him credit for.  About Richards,” he continued changing the subject.  “I hope you’re not going to expel him.”  
          “I haven’t made up my mind about Richards, as if it were any of your business,” replied McGonagall tartly.  
          “Of course not,” agreed Harry smoothly.  “But as a parent of a student affected by his actions I am certainly interested in what happens to Richards and as a Hogwarts Governor the interests of all the students at Hogwarts _is_ my business.”  
          “What he has done is reprehensible!  Doing that to O’Daniels—Albus and Holly could have died!” stated McGonagall vehemently.  “We cannot tolerate behavior like that!”  
          “Agreed,” said Harry. “And I hope you make that very clear to him.  But no one _did_ die.  There are no finer Professors than at Hogwarts.  If Richards is expelled, whom will he turn to for instruction?  Richards cannot learn from his mistakes if he is not given a second chance.”  
          McGonagall stared at Harry.  “You constantly amaze me, Potter,” she said finally. “I will consider your words.”  
          “Thank you,” said Harry quietly.  He looked down at Albus, now sound asleep, with Ginny still holding his hand.  Then he looked over at Holly, who lay tense in her bed, with her eyes again wide open.  She had clearly given up trying to sleep.  “May we spend the night?” he asked softly.  
          McGonagall followed Harry’s glance at Holly noting she was still awake.  “Of course,” she replied.  “There isn’t much of a night left anyway.  It would be foolish to expect you to leave now.”  
          “Thank you,” said Harry.  
          “Well, I’ve got to get going,” said McGonagall.  “Perhaps I can get in a couple hours of rest before tomorrow.  Good night, Potter, Mrs. Potter” she said to each of them and quietly left the infirmary.   
          Harry looked again at Holly whose eyes were still wide open.  “Aren’t you going to sleep?” he asked her.  
          “I’m not sleepy,” replied Holly.   
          “Oh.  Well, perhaps you would like to watch the sunrise with me.”  Holly nodded.  She got out of bed and followed Harry back to the window.  Sasha trailed along.  Harry pulled up one of the chairs.  Using his wand he transformed it into a large cushy armchair.  He pulled one of the end tables over and transformed it into a footstool.  
          “Do you think this chair is large enough for two?” he asked sitting down and resting his legs on the footstool, “or are you too big to sit on laps now.”  In response, Holly sat down on Harry’s lap and curled up in the chair with him.  Sasha jumped onto Holly’s lap and curled up as well.  Harry wrapped an arm around Holly.  “I expect it was pretty frightening to go to sleep one place and wake up somewhere totally different,” he said.  Holly nodded silently.  “In fact,” he continued thoughtfully, “one might even be _afraid_ to go to sleep for fear it would happen again...”  Holly didn’t speak.  “I don’t really think you have anything to fear, though,” continued Harry casually.  “You broke the spell and Riddle isn’t around to make a new one.  Even if he were, I’m sure you’d be able to do it again.”  
          “I was just lucky,” Holly mumbled.  
          “We all were,” agreed Harry.  Using his free hand he aimed his wand back to the beds—“ _Accio!”_ he commanded and a thick blanket floated up and landed in his waiting hand.  Harry wrapped the blanket around them both covering Sasha as well.  
          “That’s a nice spell,” murmured Holly.  
          “It’s very useful,” agreed Harry.  “I learned it during my forth year at Hogwarts.  Did anyone ever tell you about how I faced a dragon to get an egg during the Tri Wizard competition?”  
          “No, sir.”  
          So Harry told Holly about his experiences with the dragon.  And then he talked about his first quidditch match and continued to talk about anything and everything as long as it didn’t have to do with Tom Riddle or Lord Voldemort.  As he talked, the early morning grays brightened to daylight until the sun shone all around.  Sometime during the morning, well after the sun had risen, Holly eventually drifted off to sleep.  But Harry continued to hold her.  He didn’t want Holly to wake up afraid again.  He would hold her all day, if necessary.  It was the least he could do for her.  He owed Holly so much; they all did.

 


	23. Chapter 23

          Holly dreamed she was home, safe and warm, in her father’s arms.  She stirred.  Gradually Holly woke.  She realized she was being held.  It didn’t feel like her dad, but she still felt safe and warm.  Holly cautiously opened an eye.   
          “Hello,” came the voice of Harry Potter.  “How are you feeling?”  
          “I, uh—” Why was she in a chair?  With a start, all the memories of yesterday came flooding back:  the other Hogwarts, Headmaster Snape, Albus and the room!  Then Holly remembered watching the sunrise with Cousin Harry.  She looked out the window.  The shadows were long in the other direction.  It was well past midday.  
          “I must have drifted off!” exclaimed Holly.  “You didn’t have to stay with me like that!”  
          “It was no bother,” replied Cousin Harry easily.  “I was tired too.”  
          “Ah,” said a cheerful voice behind her.  “You’re finally up!  How are we feeling?” said Madam Pomfrey coming into view.  
          “Tired,” admitted Holly.   
          “That’s to be expected,” replied Madam Pomfrey looking Holly over carefully.  “You had a busy night.  Are you hungry?” she inquired.  
          “Yes, I am,” agreed Holly.  
          “Good,” said Madam Pomfrey.  She disappeared from view and reappeared momentarily with a huge tray of food.  “I saved this from lunch for you,” she said setting the tray down in front of them.  Using her wand she caused another chair to slide forward stopping near the chair Holly was in.  Holly slid off of Cousin Harry’s lap and into the other chair.  Sasha jumped off Holly’s lap and yowled at her anxiously circling around her ankles.   
          “It’s O.K.,” Holly assured the cat while Cousin Harry moved and stretched briefly.  “You can go on!  I’ll be here when you get back.”  Sasha looked one last time at Holly before she streaked out of the room.  Harry rearranged his chair so they faced each other with the window at one side.  Madam Pomfrey brought another tray of food for him too.   
          “Thank you,” said Harry.  The two began eating.  
          “Where is everyone?” asked Holly realizing they were alone in the infirmary.  
          “Albus woke up a little before lunch time,” began Cousin Harry.  “James, Taylor and Rose came by to visit and he went off with them for lunch.”  He took another bite of food and then added, “Ginny went back to our home to be with Lily.”  
          “Oh.”   
          “Your friends have been by too,” added Cousin Harry.  “They brought you a change of clothes.  We told them to come back at dinnertime.  You may not be too hungry, but I figured you could be out of here by then.”  
          Madam Pomfrey returned.  “The Headmistress dropped this off for you,” she said laying a wand down on the tray in front of Holly.”  
          Holly’s eyes lit up at the sight of it.  “Thanks,” said Holly.  Madam Pomfrey nodded and left giving the two some more privacy.  Holly picked up the wand welcoming it like a familiar friend and put it in her pocket next to the other wand.  Then Holly pulled out her other wand, Lily’s wand.  “Here,” she said handing Lily’s wand to Cousin Harry.  “You can have this.”  He looked at the wand without taking it.  
          “Why?” he asked.  
          “It’s your mum’s,” explained Holly.  “You should have it.”  
          “Severus Snape gave it to you, Holly, not me,” replied Cousin Harry.  “It’s yours.”  
          “But it’s your mum’s!” protested Holly.  “It should stay in your family!  Don’t you want to give it to Lily or something?”  
          “Keep it,” insisted Cousin Harry.  “You’re my cousin, Holly,” he explained.  “The wand _is_ staying in the family.  I can think of no person more deserving or more suitable for entrusting the care of this wand than you.  Who knows,” Cousin Harry smiled, “someday you might have "Lilys" of your own to pass it on to.”  
          Reluctantly, Holly returned Lily’s wand to her pocket next to the other wand.  Then she silently finished the food on her plate.  
          Madam Pomfrey came by and picked up the empty trays.  “Are we all done eating?” she asked cheerily.  Both Cousin Harry and Holly nodded.  “Good,” Madam Pomfrey said suddenly sounding business-like.  “I have a final medical check to do before I release you from the infirmary.  Stand up,” she commanded.  “Let me look you over.”  
          Holly obediently stood.  Madam Pomfrey checked her out from head to foot.  “Can you still block?” she asked conversationally.  
          Holly closed her eyes and reached out with her mind.  Harry Potter and Madam Pomfrey never broadcast their emotions much anyway so she really hadn’t tried to block since she woke, but she still could sense her own identity secure with her parent’s love surrounding her.  “Yes,” she replied confidently.  “I can still block.”  She sensed a pinprick in Harry Potter’s arm.  “You should quit doing that, Mr. Potter,” she said calmly.  “You’ll hurt yourself!”   
          Cousin Harry laughed.  “I might indeed,” he agreed.  “I think you can definitely block!  Congratulations!”  
          The infirmary door opened;  Mark and Becky came in.  Sasha rushed in too, streaking between their feet and jumping onto Holly’s shoulder purring loudly.  “You’re up!” exclaimed Becky happily.  She ran over and gave Holly a warm hug.  “We were all so worried about you!”  
          “Are you able to leave?” asked Mark.  “It’s dinnertime now.  And then we’re having a party back in the dorms to celebrate your return!”  
          Holly looked at Madam Pomfrey.  “May I?” she asked eagerly.  
          “Run along!” said Madam Pomfrey with a twinkle in her eye, “but keep your cat here for now,” she directed.  “Pick up Sasha on your way back to the dorms and come back Monday for a follow-up.”  
          “Yes ma’am!”  Sasha jumped off Holly’s shoulder and settled onto a bed while Holly grabbed her robe and clothes.  Then Holly moved behind a curtain to change.  When she emerged, she went up to Cousin Harry and gave him a warm hug.  
          “Thank you for everything,” she said.  
         “Thank you,” he replied with a smile.  “Have a good evening.  I’ll be seeing you later.”  Holly smiled and left the infirmary with her friends.

 ********************

          “So,” said Becky eagerly as they went down the stairs, “tell us what happened?  Nobody will give us any details.”  
          “I’ll tell you all about it at the House meeting tonight,” replied Holly.  “That way I won’t have to repeat myself.  I'll just say that I’m very, very glad to be back.”   
          While they walked, Becky described how Sasha had given the alert when Holly first went missing and how the students, Professor Iverson and Professor Lovegood had all made a search of the dorms without success.  No one had known what to do next but sit around and worry, which everyone had done, until Professor Iverson sent them word that Holly had been found and was being taken to the infirmary…  
          “Then we were all able to get some sleep,” finished Mark.  “But it didn’t seem like much.  Good thing there weren’t too many classes today.  I’ve felt like a walking zombie all day.”  
          “Me too!” admitted Becky.   
          Holly stopped when they reached the entrance of the Great Hall bracing herself for the usual onslaught of emotions—but it didn’t happen, at least not the way she expected.  She could sense all the different emotions, hundreds of them!  Happy, worried, hungry, full…  They were all still out there but they didn’t affect her—they didn’t influence her at all!  Holly smiled.  “Let’s go say “Hi” to everyone,” she said cheerfully and they walked over to the Hufflepuff table.  
          The Hufflepuffs greeted Holly's arrival with cheers and applause.  Holly found herself shaking several hands of well-wishers, happy at her return.  She’d had no idea everyone cared so much.  
          “So tell us,” began Gwen after Holly finally managed to sit down.  “Where were you?  What happened?”  
          Holly smiled.  “I’ll tell you all at the House meeting tonight,” she replied.  
          “Well, it must be something good,” commented Ben.  “You’re smiling!  You haven’t done that in ages!”  
          “I’m just happy to be back,” said Holly, “and, um, I can block!”  
          “You can?  Terrific!”   
          Word of Holly’s success at blocking spread quickly throughout the table and brought another round of cheers and congratulations.  
          “What’s it like?” asked Becky while she ate her meal.  "Blocking, I mean."  
          “Wonderful!” replied Holly enthusiastically.  “I can sit and watch all of you eat and not feel _compelled_ to join in!”  Not hungry, Holly sat contentedly looking at and soaking in all the familiar sounds and emotions of the people around her.  How different it all was from the last time she had visited the Great Hall!

********************

          In one corner of the Slytherin table, sitting and eating all to themselves, was Prefect Tom Richards and his brother, Anthony.  That was different.  “What’s with them?”  Holly asked aloud indicating the two.  
          “Tom Richards got into serious trouble because of what he did last night,” filled in Ben.   
          “What’d he do?” asked Holly.  
          “That’s right,” said Gwen.  “You wouldn’t know—you weren’t here.  But apparently your cousin Albus went missing too!  O'Daniels saw him vanish right before his eyes in the trophy room!”  
          “O'Daniels tried to get help,” added Ben, “but ran into Richards who didn’t believe a word O'Daniels said.  Richards gave O'Daniels a full body bind curse instead and just left him!”  
          “Headmistress McGonagall called all the rest of us Prefects together for a meeting about it this morning,” continued Gwen  “She’d already had a conference with Richards and was still furious when she spoke with us.”   
          “Well,” added Ben, “the end result of the meeting was that Richards is now on probation as a student and a Prefect and we’re to notify McGonagall immediately should he or anyone else attempt to abuse his or her power—so tell us if you see anything O.K.?”  The rest of the Hufflepuffs nodded their heads.  
          “Richards also lost 50 house points for Slytherin and he has to do one day of detention with _each_ Professor at Hogwarts!” added Gwen.  She took a sip of juice and then said, “McGonagall’s scary when she’s mad.  I’m surprised she didn’t expel Richards!”  
          “Richards cannot learn from his mistakes if he is not given a second chance,” said Holly softly.  
          Gwen looked at Holly oddly.  “Funny,” she said.  “That’s what McGonagall said too.”  Holly quickly looked down and grabbed a biscuit to eat.  
          “I don’t know about the other Professors,” speculated Mark changing the topic, “but I bet I know what Hagrid will have Richards do for detention; he probably needs help boxing up Cuddles to send away…”  Holly looked up from her biscuit and over to Richards thoughtfully.  
          When everyone had pretty much finished with their food Holly slipped out of her seat and went over to the Gryffindor table.  She greeted her cousins warmly and then whispered something in Rose’s ear.  Rose nodded.  She pulled something out of her bag and handed it to Holly.  Holly tucked it into her robe and went back to her friends.  
          “You ready to go up to the dorms?” asked Mark as everyone got up to leave.   
          “In a minute,” replied Holly keeping an eye on Prefect Richards.  He had gotten up and was trying to leave the Hall unnoticed.  “I’ll catch up with you later,” she told Mark while getting up herself.  Holly followed Richards out the Hall.  When they were both well away from the other students, Holly called out.  “Hey, Richards!”  He paused and then kept on walking.  “Prefect Richards!  Stop!” called out Holly again.   
          Tom Richards stopped and wheeled around, his tall frame shook with emotion; his eyes seemed to shoot daggers at her.  “Come to gloat?” he asked aggressively.  His whole body oozed with hatred and shame.  
          “No!” began Holly, ignoring his emotions.  “I just—” Richards glared at her.  “Look,” she tried again.  Holly pulled out what Rose had given her.  “If you’re stuck working with Cuddles, you might need this!”  She pushed the bottle of SKIN GROW into Richards’ hand and rushed off.  When she was well away from Richards, Holly turned to look.  Richards was walking off.  He still emanated waves of hatred, but she noticed he had tucked the bottle of SKIN GROW into his robe while he moved.  
          Cousin Harry had been right about Richards.  As unlikable as Richards was now, Holly had seen what Richards _could_ become with “other” teachers and she wanted no part of that kind of transformation. 

 ********************

           A month and a half later Holly went to the infirmary after dinner for a meeting with Madam Pomfrey.  Once she got inside, Holly stopped!   
          “Hello, Holly,” came a familiar voice.  It was not Madam Pomfrey who sat waiting for her.   
          “Hello, Cousin Harry,” replied Holly uncertainly.  “What are you doing here?”  
          “I came to see you, of course,” replied Harry Potter.  He was seated comfortably in one of the chairs in the infirmary.  Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen or sensed.  
          “Why?”  
          “Because I was asked to,” came the quiet reply.  “How are you?”  
          “Fine,” replied Holly.   
          It was a lie and they both knew it but Harry didn’t press.  Instead, he got up and reached for Holly’s hand.  “I’d like to show you something,” he said.  Holly followed him reluctantly over to a dresser that sat against one of the walls of the infirmary.  It had four drawers.  A huge mirror hung behind it.  “Have you seen yourself lately?” he asked gently.   
          Unable to avoid the suggestion, Holly looked into the mirror.  The vibrant, healthy girl of Christmas had vanished.  In its place stood a complete stranger with straggly blonde hair and waxy pale skin.  The green eyes staring back at her looked unnaturally huge poking out of deep purple hollows.  The sunken cheeks highlighted the cheekbones, the pale pink of the lips stood out starkly against the overall chalky white skin.  Though the clothes had shrunk to fit, this person was very skinny and thin.   
          “Your father would be very angry with me if I returned you to him looking like that,” commented Harry neutrally.  He had been appalled when he saw the dramatic changes in Holly’s appearance.  No wonder Madam Pomfrey had written him.  Holly stared at the image in the mirror but didn’t speak.   
          “Will you walk with me?” asked Harry.  He turned and walked towards the back of the infirmary.  Holly followed.  This time Harry turned to the wall and faced a picture of a fancy dressed lady with blonde ringlets.     
          “May we pass?” he asked the picture quietly.  The lady nodded and the picture swung open revealing a staircase behind.  The two walked up the steps.  They entered a spacious room at the top of the steps.   
           They stood quietly and looked around the room.  The walls were lined with huge leafy plants of all sizes.  The gentle gurgling sound of a stream that circled the room somehow and watered the plants could be easily heard.  Several small glass jars hung from the ceiling, each holding a flickering candle that cast a soft light over the whole room.  In the center was a comfy looking sofa, some arm chairs and a table beyond.  Next to the sofa sat a pile of blankets and some puffy pillows.  A huge window covered the back wall.  Holly and Harry moved to the window and looked out.  They couldn’t see much; it was dark outside but not dark enough to see the stars yet.  
          “I like this room,” said Holly looking around.  
          “Yes,” agreed Harry.  “It is nice.  Madam Pomfrey told me about it.  She likes to use it during broomstick practice.  Watching out the window gives her advance notice for when her services will be needed.”  Harry reached out and opened the windows.  A rush of cool fresh air came in; a wolf howled in the distance.  Harry didn’t know what to say next so the two stood side-by-side feeling the breeze and listening to the water gurgle.   
          Finally, he spoke, “Have you been watching the sunrise?”   
          It wasn’t the sunrise he really meant, but Holly understood.  “A few times,” she said in a soft voice.  
          “It looks like more than a few times,” corrected Harry calmly.  
          “I’ve tried, I’ve really tried—” protested Holly,  “but I just can’t!”  That first night when she got back to the dorms after the party and telling her tale, Holly had gotten ready for bed.  When she started to lay down, the thought of going to sleep made Holly's stomach churn so much she had almost gotten physically ill.  Becky switched beds with Holly but that didn’t make her feel any better; Holly spent the night wide-awake sitting in the dark stroking Sasha.  When the gray lights of dawn reached the dorm an exhausted Holly finally dropped off to sleep.  
          Holly slept through both breakfast and lunch finally waking mid-afternoon.  The next night Holly tried sleeping on a common room sofa with the lights on and the fire blazing.  That hadn’t worked either.  Tense and nervous, Holly spent the night watching the flickering flames relaxing enough to sleep only after she could see the beginnings of daylight outside.  Gwen and Becky tried sitting up with Holly in the common room the next night hoping if someone were with her, Holly would relax enough to sleep.  They both eventually drifted off to sleep while Holly waited for the sunrise.  Holly hadn’t bothered to wake them.  It was nice to know they cared, but their presence hadn’t helped Holly feel like sleeping.  
          Finally asleep at dawn on Monday morning, Holly slept through breakfast and staggered bleary-eyed to Potions and Charms (Becky had wakened her.)  Holly slept through lunch barely making it in time for Herbology and fell asleep during the History of Magic.  Dinner was the only meal she really ate all day.  Madam Pomfrey gave her a sleeping potion, several, in fact over the next few weeks.  They helped for a few nights but their effect didn’t seem to last and the churning terror of the thought of sleeping at night returned to keep Holly wide-awake.   
          Mark and the other Hufflepuffs researched the library for sleeping solutions.  They found several sleep charms.  Charmed sleep worked but it gave Holly nightmares.  Holly sometimes had someone use a sleep charm on her at lunch and after classes.  Charmed sleep required someone present to wake her up and Holly never felt truly rested afterwards.  Barely awake during the day, Holly slept through meals and sat with glazed eyes during classes.  Mark took notes and Holly tried to study and keep up with class work at night while everyone else slept, but she just couldn’t concentrate.   
          Harry sighed.  “I know you’ve tried,” he said.  He had received Madam Pomfrey’s medical report on Holly and Professor Iverson’s report about what had gone on in the dorms.  He had also requested and received reports from all the other Professors about Holly so he knew about her sleeping in class and slipping with her course work.  He’d even gotten worried letters from Albus and Rose after observing Holly in class.  “But whatever you’ve been doing,” Harry continued, “it isn’t working.  We’ve got to try something else.”  
          “I don’t know what else to do,” said Holly, her voice trembling.  
          “Would it help if you saw this?” Harry pulled out a heart-shaped dented metal disk.  Once shiny, its surface was dull and pitted, the names of "Harry, Ginny and Tom Riddle" were barely recognizable.   
          Holly took the disk and looked at it hopefully, it no longer called and pulled her as it once did.  “No,” she said regretfully and handed the disk back to Harry, “I didn’t even know about the plaque or Albus until I walked into that room much later.  This won’t help me sleep.”  
          Harry nodded and set the piece on the table.  The disk hadn’t helped Ginny, either.  She had stared at the plaque and held it hopefully, but her memories were locked up tight as ever.  Ginny still paced the floors at night wondering what else Riddle had made her do.   
          The disk had helped Albus, though.  Albus could chalk up the experience as stupidity on his part, a lesson to never touch suspicious objects.  But Holly had done nothing stupid; she had done nothing at all and she had still been caught up in a horrible experience.  
          “Cousin Harry,” began Holly, “I _know_ we broke the curse.  I _know_ what Tom Riddle did will probably never happen again, but when it comes to sleep, especially when it’s night, I can’t stop the feelings from returning, that fear of waking up again, alone and helpless.”  
          “There are some Muggle remedies,” began Harry thoughtfully, “that purport to assist with sleep.”  He vividly remembered Aunt Petunia taking pills to sleep especially after the Dursleys had a difficult day dealing with Harry and his wizardness.  Holly looked up hopeful.  “But,” Harry added, “I don’t know as they would help you any.  Madam Pomfrey reports you seem to be particularly resistant to potions and such.  Muggle medicines tend to be much milder in strength.”  Holly dropped her eyes, disappointed.  “Besides,” continued Harry, “even should they work, such drugs would only provide temporary relief.  Eventually you would no doubt build up a resistance to them and your problems would return.  Drugs and potions only mask, not relieve, your feelings of fear.”  
          “What’ll I do?” asked Holly, her voice had a hollow hopeless sound to it.  
          “It would be possible,” began Harry carefully, “to modify your memories so you would forget the whole incident as if it never happened.  Muggle memories,” he continued,  “are often modified by wizards, especially when the Muggle in question has seen something rather unbelievable like a giant or a dragon…  You are not a Muggle,” stated Harry looking down at Holly.  “Modifying your memories would not be a remedy taken without extensive thought and consideration.  It would require both your consent and mine.”   
          It was, however the remedy reluctantly recommended by Madam Pomfrey and Healer Winonan.  Counseling and potions hadn’t worked.  The bottom line was that Holly had gone to sleep in the most secure environment possible at Hogwarts and had woken up in the dark, alone, cold and helpless.  In addition, Albus had vanished in a lit room with Taylor standing by.  Taylor had been unable to prevent it or go with him.  Holly knew that; she knew that no change in circumstances would have affected what had happened to her.  She also clearly believed, at some subconscious level, that she could return to that other world at any time and no one could stop it.  The fear of its possible re-occurrence had traumatized Holly beyond reason.  
          “Is that what you want me to do?” asked Holly uncertainly.  “Have my memories modified?”  
          “I want you to be happy!” Harry’s voice shook with emotion.  “I want you to be happy and healthy and to smile like you used to.  If modifying your memories is the only way to make that happen, then that's what I want!”   
          The two stood together quietly for some time.  Then Holly spoke, “Would I forget everything?”  
          “Yes and no,” replied Harry relieved Holly was at least discussing the concept.  “You would forget everything but then we could retell it all to you, as you have told us.  You would know what happened, but it would be more like reading a book than actually feeling it.  Madam Pomfrey thinks that would distance you enough from the memories to enable you to sleep.”  
          “And if that didn’t work?”   
          “Then yes, we would try again and fix it so you would forget everything, as if it never happened.”  
          “What about blocking?” inquired Holly after a moment.  “Could I still block?”  
          “That,” replied Harry, “is questionable.  Knowing you can block and actually blocking is two separate things.  Most likely you would not remember how to block.  It’s possible that Albus could repeat whatever he said to you in that room and you would be able to duplicate what you did to block.”  
          “Do you think that would work?”   
          Harry thought briefly.  Knowing he had somehow done it once before _had_ helped him conjure his first Patronus but lives had been on the line.  Would they be able to duplicate enough of whatever happened in that room to enable Holly to block again?  “No,” he finally replied softly.  “I don’t.  I think you would have to relearn how to block.  Knowing that you have succeeded to block in the past, though, could make it easier for you to master blocking again.”  
          Holly stood silently, thinking.  Harry waited patiently.  This was not a decision that could be rushed.  He watched the flickering shadows on the walls, listened to the gentle gurgle of the stream and felt the cool breeze on his face as he waited.  Finally Holly spoke in a voice barely louder than a whisper.  “But I would only know Headmaster Snape as Albus does through someone else’s memories, and not really _remember_ him, right?”     
          “That’s correct,” replied Harry quietly.  “He would be just another name to you.”  
          Holly thought some more.  The moon rose and cast its shadow on the grounds below.  “Cousin Harry,” said Holly finally, “it was all very scary, but I don’t want to forget how to block and I don’t want to forget Headmaster Snape.”  
          “Then,” replied Harry softly.  “We must find a way to conquer your fears before they conquer you…”

********************

          Harry Potter reached out and closed the window.  It was getting cold outside.  “Have a seat,” he told Holly while sitting down himself.  “I think we have a long night ahead of us.”  
          “But what about—”  
          “That’s all been taken care of,” interrupted Harry smoothly as Holly sat down.  “Madam Pomfrey has already sent word that you’ll be late, perhaps even staying the night…  We have all the time we need.”   
          Holly’s decision had not been the easy way.  As legal guardian, Harry could have forced a memory modification, but he didn’t.  Her choice had been the one _he_ would have made given a similar situation—had made despite all the nightmares Voldemort had given him through the years.  Harry valued his memories as an essential part of who he was.  He would not rob Holly of her memories, her personality.  Now, if only they could find a way to help her live with them.  
          “Tell me everything again that happened that night starting from, oh, after dinner.  Don’t leave anything out.”  Harry had no idea how to help Holly, especially as wiser minds than his had failed, but they had to try.  Maybe something she would say would give him an idea.  
          “Well,” began Holly, “I was with Mark and Becky.  We got up to the dorms…”    
          Harry stopped Holly when she got to daylight.  The daylight didn't scare Holly.  “Tell me again,” he encouraged.  “Give me more details…”  
          So Holly told her tale again.  It sounded pretty much the same the second time.  Harry didn’t know what else to do so he asked her to repeat it a third time.  
          “But I already told you everything,” protested Holly crossly.  
          “You have something better to do tonight?” inquired Harry mildly, “like sleep?”  Maybe the act of reliving it often enough would diminish the fear…   
          Holly gulped and brushed away the tears.  Then she began again.  She was tired and she hated telling the tale.  For her, that morning had been one of the scariest parts of her experience.  But the thought of going to sleep was even worse.  
          “…And then I changed into my nightgown; mum got it for me.” Holly added trying to include more details.  “We went shopping during the Holidays and we had to go to three different stores before we found a nightgown we both liked.”  
          “Did she?” murmured Harry encouraging her to continue talking.  
          “Yes,” said Holly seizing on the gown as a chance to avoid scarier details.  “The nightgown’s really warm, you know, but when there aren’t any blankets to go with it,” Holly gave a soft laugh.  “I’ve taken to staying up all night totally dressed with sweater, shoes, socks and robe, just in case…”  
          “Hmm,” said Harry, “you know, I’m not so sure that’s a very good idea.”  
          “Oh?  Why?”  
          “Well,” he began, “I have been wondering why Sasha didn’t vanish with you since you two were touching when it happened, yet your clothes did.  What you just said kind of explains it.  Dumbledore protected your family from magic spells.  He didn’t protect the rest of Hogwarts.  Things your mum did for you, like get you a nightgown, must also be included in the spell.  _I_ got you Sasha.  Were that spell to happen again tonight, while you were wearing the clothes that Ginny got you, well, you get the picture…”   
          Holly did.  “I would be very cold indeed,” she agreed blushing at the thought.  “Thank you,” she said to Harry.  “I shall be sure to dig out the rest of the things mum got me to wear for tonight…”  
          Harry nodded.  He felt glad to finally be of some use to Holly's concerns.  
          “If my whole family was protected,” speculated Holly, “do you suppose Vernon noticed something different?”  
          “I don’t know,” replied Harry thoughtfully.  “Maybe, maybe not.  Your parents didn’t seem to notice much.  But it was very late at night and they’re not too affected by events in the magic world.  Vernon could have slept through the whole thing.  Even if I were dead, his life might not have changed much.  Smeltings would be there and Vernon would still attend Smeltings.  Your dad went to Smeltings, as did his father before him.  You might write and ask Vernon though.  It would be interesting to learn his response.”   
          “Yes, it would,” agreed Holly.  
          “Didn’t you say Richards said no Mudbloods were allowed in the school?” inquired Harry.  
          “Yes,” replied Holly, still not really sure what a Mudblood was.  
          “Well that’s it, then!  Or, rather part of it!” amended Harry.  “In the other world, Riddle’s world, as a Mudblood, you should have never been at Hogwarts.  You weren’t supposed to be a wizard!  But as you were already protected by Dumbledore’s spells, Riddle’s curse couldn’t affect you; you remained where you were as if the curse had not happened.  In reality, _you_ didn’t vanish, everything and everyone else did!”  
          “That’s interesting,” said Holly, “but how does it help me?”  
          “Because,” began Harry slowly, “you and your clothes weren’t the only things unaffected by Riddle’s curse.”   
          “What do you mean?”  Holly could think of nothing else unchanged.  
          “Lily’s wand,” replied Harry.   
          “Her wand?”  
          “Yes, Lily died before Tom Riddle’s curse,” explained Harry.  “The wand existed before the curse so it was not affected by it.  If you were to vanish, rather if the world around you were to vanish again suddenly, and you had Lily’s wand with you, you would still have Lily’s wand when you woke up…  That’s what worries you most, isn’t it, the idea of waking up again, alone and helpless…”  
          “Y—yes,” said Holly slowly turning this new idea over in her head.  “You really think the wand would stay with me?” she asked hopefully.  
          “I do,” Harry replied confidently.  “Mind you, I don’t think Riddle’s curse will happen again, but Lily’s wand was there waiting for you in Riddle’s world and it would still be there if you returned.  Think of it,” he added persuasively, “with your mum's clothes and Lily’s wand you needn’t worry; you would be prepared for anything.  You might be alone, but you wouldn’t be cold and helpless…”  
          Holly considered this for a while and then spoke, “Cousin Harry?”  
          “Yes?”  
          “It’s getting late.  I think I’d like to change my clothes, just in case.”  
          “Of course.  Why don’t we go up to your dorm for a few minutes?  You can change your clothes and fetch Lily’s wand.  Then we’ll return here where we can watch the stars and play a game or two of wizard’s chess if you want.”  
          “I’d like that.”  
          So the two left the infirmary and went up to the Hufflepuff dorm.  Harry waited outside while Holly dug through her things for her Muggle clothes.  After she changed, Holly grabbed Lily’s wand and returned outside.  She brought Sasha with her.  Holly’s school robes hid a very Muggle looking pair of jeans, a turtleneck sweater and a coat.  
          “I was going to wear this on the train home,” Holly explained.  There was a new spring in her step and a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there before.   
          Back in the upstairs room, Harry pulled out the blankets and pillow and arranged them on the sofa.  “Just in case you feel like lying down,” he explained.  Then he sat down on the sofa and invited Holly to sit with him.  “Shall we watch the stars a bit?”  Holly sat down next to him.  Sasha jumped onto Holly’s lap and started purring loudly.  Harry pulled a blanket around Holly and another over himself.  It _was_ a bit cool in the room.  He watched the stars and listened to the gurgling creek.   
          Holly mostly stroked Sasha and looked at her wand thoughtfully.  “You really think it would stay with me?” she asked again.  
          “Yes,” said Harry firmly.  “It’s protected, like you.”   
          Presently, Holly slid down further on the sofa and rested her head on the pillow.  Sasha curled up against her.  Holly lay there with her eyes wide open staring at the wand clutched in her hands.  “You know,” she said softly, “if I returned, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad...  I have a wand now, and Headmaster Snape would be there too; he’ll protect me.”  
          “Yes, he would,” agreed Harry.  
          “Cousin Harry?”  
          “Yes?”  
          “It’s too bright in here.  Is there some way to dim the lights?”  
          “I think so.”  Harry stood up with his blanket and walked around the room using his wand to extinguish the lights.  He left one small candle flickering in a corner.  
          “Thank you.”  
          “No problem.”  Holly stretched out on the sofa taking up the space once occupied by Harry as well.  Harry sat down on one of the chairs.  He listened to the water and watched the stars outside.  When he next checked Holly, her hands still clutched Lily's wand tightly but Holly's eyes were closed and her breathing was deep and even.  She looked fast asleep.  Harry grabbed the other pillow and settled himself down in the chair.  Helping Holly prepare for a possible return was an unusual solution to her fears, but if it worked—that was what counted. 

 


	24. Chapter 24

          “Are you ready, Potter?” called out Headmistress McGonagall.  
          “Just about,” replied Harry Potter.  He straightened his robe and gave his unruly hair one last attempt with a comb.  Today was an important day for the people at Hogwarts.  It was a day commemorated throughout the wizard world.  It was a day Harry did not particularly wish to remember.  
          The door opened and Prime Minister Shacklebolt stepped in.  He was attired in his finest dress robes as was fitting of his position.  Harry wore plain black dress robes; he refused to wear anything fancier.  “Hello, Harry,” said Shacklebolt warmly shaking Harry’s hand.  
          “Hello, Kingsley,” greeted Harry in return.  
          “How’s Ginny?” he inquired.  
          “Holding her own,” replied Harry.  McGonagall had, of course, informed Kingsley of the nearly successful _Time Reverse Curse_ especially as it had involved Tom Riddle.  She’d told Kingsley in private; no need to alarm the rest of the Ministry unnecessarily.  Kingsley had come to the trophy room personally along with some Aurors to confirm the curse was indeed broken and to insure no remnants remained.  They searched Hogwarts for signs of other curses without finding anything.  Then they visited the Potter residence and attempted to find out what else, if anything, Riddle had done.  But Ginny’s mind remained a blank they could not pierce.  
          Kingsley looked through the window.  “It’s almost time,” he commented.  Harry looked outside and nodded.  It did look a bit lighter outside.  The ceremony was timed to coincide with dawn.  Always dawn.  McGonagall insisted Harry arrive the night before knowing full well that he would arrive late or not at all given the opportunity.  Unfortunately, there were some things even Harry could not avoid.  
          “Are you ready?” asked McGonagall entering the room.  She was wearing full dress robes also.  Her tartan plaids sparkled as the threads of silver woven within caught the light.  “It’s time.”  Kingsley and Harry nodded.  “Come along then,” she said sweeping out of the room.  Harry and Kingsley followed.   
          The three walked down to the Great Hall stopping at the entrance.  The other Hogwarts professors were waiting outside the entrance.  “Are we all here?” she questioned the group briefly; they nodded.  “Then let’s get on with it.”   McGonagall led the way into the Great Hall followed by Prime Minister Shacklebolt and then Harry Potter.  The other Professors joined in behind.  
          The Great Hall was full of people.  Harry kept his face carefully neutral and his eyes fixed straight ahead as he walked down the center with the rest of the procession.  _“I should be used to this by now,”_ he told himself.  But he wasn’t.  Crowds of people pointing and looking as he passed by still made him uncomfortable.  
          Finally, they reached the end of the hall, climbed up the steps and walked to the seating area reserved for dignitaries.  McGonagall sat in the center chair near the podium.  Kingsley sat to her left and Harry sat next to him.  The rest of the Professors sat on either side of them.  The chair felt hard and uncomfortable and reinforced Harry’s own desire to be elsewhere, away from all those eyes that seemed to be looking at only him.  Harry kept the expression from his face, forced himself to look unaffected by the unwanted attention.   
          This was a special day so the usual tables on the stage had been removed. The seating of the Great Hall also had been rearranged for this day.  Several long benches replaced the usual four long tables.  The benches were placed in rows parallel to the stage.  Instead of sitting by Houses, the students were placed by year.  The first years sat in the front; the second years sat behind them and so on with the sixth and seventh years sharing the same row.   
          Behind them sat the guests.  Everyone who had been there that day was invited.  Most came.  Looking over the group Harry saw lots of people he recognized: the Weasleys, of course, Ron and Hermione, Ginny, former members of Dumbledore’s Army and other classmates.  Even Kreacher, fingering his gold locket, stood in back along with several of the other house-elves.  Lily and Hugo were spending the day with Hermione’s parents.  Harry wished he could be down there with his friends instead singled out and up on the stand.  
          “Which one is your cousin?” asked Kingsley interrupting Harry’s thoughts.  
          “Seventh one on the left,” whispered Harry back.  Holly sat between her friends, Mark and Becky.  
          “Goodness!” exclaimed Kingsley.  “She really _does_ look a lot like Lily.”  
          “Yes,” agreed Harry.  Kingsley wouldn’t have said that a month ago when Harry last saw Holly.  She looked greatly improved from that time.  No longer the hollow eyed skeleton, Holly looked a bit thin, but healthy.  Madam Pomfrey reported to Harry that whatever he and Holly had discussed that night seemed to do the trick; Holly again slept through the nights and had made a rapid recovery in her health.  
          “We were most fortunate,” stated Kingsley.  “I don’t know what we would have done if she hadn’t convinced Snape to help.”  
          “Not much,” whispered Harry dryly.  “We’d all be dead,”  
          Kingsley started at that but then nodded.  “You’ve got a point,” he agreed.  “Is there anything we can do for her?”  
          Harry looked over at Holly.  He saw a hint of a smile on her lips and a sparkle in her green eyes while she talked with her friends.  “Not right now,” he replied.  “I’ll let you know if something comes up.”  
          Kingsley nodded.  “You do that.”  
          Headmistress McGonagall stood to speak.  The whole hall grew quiet.  “Friends, students, Professors, and honored guests,” began McGonagall.  “We are gathered here today to remember…”    
          Harry tried hard to not listen.  He didn’t want to remember; it was too painful.  McGonagall proceeded to give a brief background of Lord Voldemort.  Then she described that fateful day which changed everything.  It wasn’t totally accurate.  The number of times McGonagall claimed Harry had survived the killing curse, for example.  That wasn’t correct.  The surviving Death Eaters never told what happened in the Forest between Harry and Lord Voldemort nor explained why Voldemort was so certain that Harry was dead.  Hagrid never mentioned it either.  Most likely none of them could believe what they had seen and heard: that an unarmed Harry had actually taken a Killing Curse from Lord Voldemort and lived!   
          McGonagall also called the death of the snake Nagini a “most fortunate and useful distraction,” but its death meant more than that, much more.  Those details were of little importance now.  To correct them meant Harry would have to explain… and he didn’t want to do that, wasn’t sure he could.  So Harry sat politely, stared ahead and waited for McGonagall to finish.  Eventually she did and sat down.   
          Then it was Kingsley’s turn.  Fortunately, Kingsley didn’t like to make speeches.  His was mercifully short; it was timed to end with the sunrise.  When he finished, the edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window.  Everybody turned to look at it, imagining what it had been like to be here that final moment…  Harry didn't have to imagine; he already knew!  He filled his mind with thoughts of family and those he loved instead.  
          After a full minute of dazzling sunlight, everyone filed silently out of the Great Hall to go upstairs.  Luna led the way followed by the First years.  Harry did not give a speech of his own.  He never did.  His silence added to the mystique of Harry Potter but he didn’t care.  Speeches were for politicians and important people; he considered himself neither.   
          McGonagall led Kingsley, Harry and the rest of the Professors off the Head table and back down the aisle.  Ginny waited for Harry, joining him as he walked out of the Great Hall, as did Ron and Hermione.  The four joined the rest of the group solemnly walking up to the memorial.   
          There were actually two memorials, one behind a certain painting at Hogwarts and the other, accessible by Muggles and wizards alike, lay at a quiet village near where a bridge once stood.  It was a bridge destroyed by giants, not that the Muggles knew that.  Many Muggle lives were lost that day and the monument listed each and every one.  But more names could be found on the memorial, if one knew what to say and where to look.  Many people would visit the memorial today to look and ponder the other names listed, the names of the people who, directly or indirectly, lost their lives at the hand of Lord Voldemort.  
          By the time Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione reached the painting, which hung across from the Defense Against the Dark Arts room, most of the people had already entered the room behind.  This room had a special ability to expand to fit the size of the group within.  The four quietly waited their turn in line.  Luna gave them a friendly nod as they entered, then she followed closing the painting door behind her.  
          It took a few minutes for Harry’s eyes to adjust to the darkness.  The semicircle room was like a large outdoors field.  It was completely filled with people and still had lots of room to spare.  The purples, blues and black all blended together to make a perfect starlit night.  The silver and gold flecks, names, did not enlarge with the room.  Instead they spread out like twinkling pinpricks of light across the walls creating the feel of a clear starry night.  The names were so widely spread around the room that they were easily accessible by everyone.   
          No one moved or said anything.  They waited for the First years to explore.  It was their first time here.  Usually, it took a while for them to look around before it occurred to one of them to touch a name and then even longer for them to realize the import of the names, but not today.   
          Today, after the door had closed and noise of people moving stopped, when the silence in the room was complete, Albus stepped boldly forward, almost as if he knew what he was doing and what to expect.  He reached out and touched one of the twinkling names.  Immediately, a shaft of gold light shot out of the name.  The rest of the First years jumped back in surprise.  The shaft of light stopped just above Albus’ head and formed the figure of a familiar person.  The person with piercing black eyes, stringy shoulder length black hair and a hooked nose stared out defiantly at everyone.  His long robes swirled and his lips curled up in a familiar sneer as he slowly turned, hands on his hips, as if to survey his class.  
          “This is Severus Snape,” announced Albus in a voice loud and clear enough to be heard by everyone in the room.  “I’m named after him.  He’s a Slytherin.”  The Slytherin students in the room started at that.  There were few Slytherin names on the wall.  “He was very brave.  He saved my dad, Harry Potter, and he saved me.  I wouldn’t be here today without him.  And I wish,” Albus’ voice cracked a bit here.  He started again.  “I wish that Lord Voldemort hadn’t killed him so I could meet him and tell him, 'Thank-you.'”  At this point Albus broke down and started to cry; it was Holly who moved up to comfort him.  James reached out, gently touched the figure of Severus Snape with his wand and it exploded in a shower of light, which faded away leaving the room again in darkness.  
          In the darkness, the other students moved forward, each searching the wall, looking for names to touch and see.  More figures shot out in a shaft of gold and turned.  Surprisingly, none of the figures overlapped.  Then the others in the room moved forward finding their own names to view and remember.   
          Ginny liked to revisit Fred, forever young, happy, cocky.  Besides his parents and Sirius, Harry often chose Cedric’s name.  If only he’d been more selfish and greedy that day; if only he’d grabbed the goblet alone, for himself.  Maybe Cedric would still be alive...   
          Time seemed to stand still in the room.  Figure after figure would appear and vanish to be replaced by others.  Eventually, the room cleared; one could grieve only so long before returning to the needs of the living.  There was a huge picnic style breakfast waiting for everyone outside on the front lawn of Hogwarts.  
          Harry looked around and saw Holly still in the room.  She was staring at the figure of Severus Snape.  He moved to join her.  “He looks kind of scary,” Holly said to Harry, “but he was really quite nice.”  
          Harry nodded politely.  He wished he knew the Snape she knew.  
          “I’m never going to see him again, am I?” Holly asked.  
          “No,” said Harry quietly.  “But he’ll always be with you, in your memories.”  
          “I’m glad we didn’t have to modify them,” she said softly.  
          “Me too.”  They both stared at the figure of Severus Snape.  Presently Harry asked, “How are you doing?”  
          "Fine, sir,” replied Holly.  “Look!”  She pulled open her robe and revealed a brightly colored woven belt wrapped around her waist.  Tied securely to it was Lily’s wand. “I got mum to send me one of her old belts to use to tie it on,” she said proudly.  “Now I know I’ll be safe in the daytime too!”  
          Harry smiled.  “You know that isn’t necessary, don’t you?” he stated gently.  
          “I know,” she replied soberly, “but it makes me feel better to do it.  And,” she said looking up at the still circling figure of Severus Snape, “it makes me feel closer to him.” Harry looked up at Severus Snape just as he vanished into a showering sprinkle of light.  
          “I think he’d like that,” said Harry.  “Are you hungry?  I am.  Would you like to come out with us for breakfast?”  
          “I guess so, sir,” replied Holly.  
          Harry took Holly’s hand.  The two joined Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, who already stood by the door waiting.  They walked outside and into the hallway.  Albus, James, and Rose stood waiting for them there.  Together, they all walked down the stairs.  
          “So,” Albus asked Holly conversationally, “you think you passed all your exams?”   
          “I hope so,” replied Holly.  “I studied long enough.”  Harry knew Holly had even gone to all the professors and apologized for her earlier sleepy behavior.  Then she had requested additional work to make up for it.  All the professors seemed understanding and were happy to accommodate her.  “How about you?” Holly asked back.  
          “I should,” replied Albus, “but I doubt I’ll get any Outstandings.”  
          “You’ll be lucky to get any Exceeds Expectations the way you studied,” commented Rose dryly.  
          “Hey, I studied!” said Albus sounding hurt, “just not when you were looking.”  
          “That’s right,” said James loyally, “I saw him study.”  
          Rose laughed.  “We’ll see how much you studied when the exam results come out!”  Then Rose asked, “Will you be coming back to Hogwarts next year, Holly?”  
          Holly smiled.  “I hope to,” she replied.  “But I may have to talk my dad into it.  He’s not too crazy about Hogwarts, you know.”  
          “That’s true,” smiled Harry, listening in.  Then he thought, “Maybe I’d better warn him about Lily’s wand—or not.”  
          The group reached the entrance of Hogwarts and stepped outside.  It was a beautiful day.  Colorful flowers bloomed everywhere; picnic tables piled with food and service ware dotted the lawn.  The sun streamed down on students and guests alike who gathered at the tables eating.   
          Becky ran up and grabbed Holly’s hand.  “Come on!” she shouted dragging her off.  "I’ve saved you a seat.  Holly waved good-bye to the Potters as she ran to join her friends.

*******************

          As Holly and Becky made their way to the tables, Martina Goyle stuck out a leg.  Becky tripped and fell.  
          “Oops!” said Martina with false concern.  “Did that hurt?” she asked looking over at Holly.  
          “Oh, grow up!” said Holly with disgust while helping Becky stand.   
          Martina pouted and turned back to the table with her friends.  Holly scanned the group.  Both Richards brothers were there.  Tom Richards survived his detention and was again his usual arrogant self.  James, Albus and Taylor had sat vigil every night during Tom’s detention waiting for and watching his return.   
          “Stay if you must,” said Holly, “but don’t tease or make cat-calls,” she urged.  “You remember how that felt.  It’ll make things worse between us all, not better.  Believe me, I know what that can be!”  
          And so they sat silently, waiting and watching.  Taylor had his own nightmares about that night to deal with.  The next evening Paige, Tony and Scorpius joined the Potters and Taylor, also waiting.  Most likely they had come to defend Tom, if necessary.  The two groups never spoke but Tom later mumbled an apology to Taylor.   
          Tom Richards finished the rest of the school year without any further infractions.  Watching the two boys eat their breakfast, Holly could tell they still oozed dislike, but the blinding hatred of before was missing.  That was something.  
          Becky and Holly joined the rest of the Hufflepuffs at the table.  Many, like Mark and Susan, sat elsewhere eating with their parents.  
          Ben looked up at their return.  “Any trouble?” he asked having seen Becky fall.  
          “No,” replied Holly sitting down in front of a plate.  “Just the Slytherins, nothing we couldn’t handle.” 

 *******************

          Holly looked around. The tables were decorated with pots of white butterfly orchids that fluttered in the wind while the snake plants next to them curled their leaves at the slightest touch.  Hairy toads sat happily beneath the tables looking for bits of food.   
          The white and pink coral-bells that once lined the outside walls of Hogwarts were replaced with purple wolfsbane that howled mournfully in the breeze and huge multi-colored snapdragons that snapped at the flies and bees that flew too near and fingers that got too close.  Bright green poison sumac crept up the sides of the castle.   
          The miniature snapdragons in the lawn were replaced with small silky gray spider lilies that waved their petals gently in the breeze giving off a faint odor of rotting meat to attract the flies.  In the distance, Holly could see blue-faced pixies playing hide’n seek in the pink heather while damsel flies fluttered about busily picking the red pepper berries.  
          “Aren’t you hungry?” asked Becky reaching for seconds.  “Are you O.K.?” she added with concern noting Holly had yet to begin eating.  
          “I’m fine,” replied Holly dishing up some food.  She had come to Hogwarts because she had to.  At first, it was creepy and scary.  But now, it felt normal.  She had friends here, and family.  Holly took a bite of sausage.  Dad may not be too happy about it, but she definitely wanted to return.  Who knew what would happen at Hogwarts next year...

**The End**

 

 


End file.
